Lina wailed at the top of her lungs, still fighting against the hulking brute. He might as well have been cast out of bronze for all he bent for her. The sounds from inside the ship had stopped and Lina couldn’t bring herself to imagine the worst. Bain was still down there. He was fine. He wasn’t dead. He couldn’t be. She just needed to get away from this beast to see him. To make sure he was okay.
But the Fibbun guard dragged her away from the ship, through a brightly-lit receiving bay on a quietly-humming ship. Any other time, she’d be marveling at the technology around her, at the inner workings of this ship and the sheer magnitude of it. But not this time.
“Let me go!” she screeched. This time, she was trying to keep her head about her. While panic made her mind blank, it paved the way for constant worries about Bain to crop up to the surface. The huge Fibbun dragged her through the ship, slung over his shoulder and no matter how she craned her neck to look, she couldn’t see the other leaving the ship. Or Bain. What was happening in there? He had to still be alive. To still be fighting. Right?
“Where are you taking me?” Maybe if she could get the guy talking, she could get him to give her news on Bain’s condition. Maybe he’d tell her that Bain was hurt, but being treated. Or maybe he wasn’t hurt at all. The Fibbun remained silent.
She couldn’t bear to think about the other possibility. But with all her energy focused behind her, Lina forgot to worry about what was ahead of her. The alien monster smacked his slimy palm on a nearby wall and a door slid open silently, opening to a sterile white room with a clear tube in the middle, like a shower stall.
He deposited her on the floor after the door slid closed and Lina hugged herself, realizing they were alone in this strange, unsettling room.
“Please, I don’t know what you want, but I can’t help you. Just let me and my friend go. We won’t cause you any trouble.” It was probably ridiculous to try to reason with him after the horrifying tales she’d heard, but she had to try. She couldn’t just give up. Not with Bain missing and possibly hurt.
The Fibbun still ignored her, typing something into a computer set into the wall. A hatch opened, and a pile of cloth was dropped from a slot in the wall onto a nearby table. He picked up the cloth and thrust it at Lina.
At first, she frowned at it, not sure what it was or what he wanted. He grunted and waved it at her again, looking angrier. The big weapon was strapped to his back now and the black metal didn’t even shine in the bright overhead lights. It seemed to suck all the light in, trapping it there. She didn’t want to find out how much a shot from that thing could hurt.
So, she took the cloth, and after unfolding it, discovered it was a plain sheath, not unlike a hospital gown, but with perhaps more coverage. Lina had only ever been to a hospital once when Mom fell and broke her leg. She’d hidden Lina in her pocket as the ambulance carted her away. They’d stayed there for three days and whenever the nurses came in to take Mom to her tests, Lina had to hide in a drawer or a flower bouquet. Mom had complained nonstop about the indignity of the hospital gown and Lina had silently been thankful she’d never have to wear one.
This place certainly didn’t seem like a hospital, but she was sure she’d rather be in a hospital, wearing an open-backed gown than on an aggressive alien’s ship in something more modest. She eyed the garment carefully and then made the decision to not put it on.
“No, no. I’m fine. I’m not sick,” she said, trying to give him the benefit of the doubt. She did not want to get undressed in front of this creature. Looking around the rest of the room didn’t give her many clues as to its purpose. There was no real furniture to speak of, but at least two other computers set into the wall with similar slats below. And the clear tube, of course.
What that tube could mean made her shudder. Was it a shower? A transport tube? A death trap? There were no clues, but Lina was sure if she put on the garment, he’d force her into it.
The Fibbun grunted at her again, scowling as he shoved the cloth in her hands into her chest.
She just shook her head. “I won’t do it. Not until you tell me what’s going on and where Bain is and if he’s—” She swallowed against the rising tide of tears. “And if he’s okay,” she finished, keeping her head held high. Not that it made much difference. Her head still only came to the middle of the Fibbun’s chest. He could probably snap her in half if he wanted.
With a grumble that sounded more than a little frustrated, the Fibbun typed something into the computer in the wall. Lina shrank back, hugging herself. What was he doing? Calling for reinforcements?
The Fibbun leaned into the computer and grumbled a bunch of words that sounded like what he’d already said to her when he gave her the gown.
“Please comply with our quarantine procedures for the safety of the crew,” a clear, crisp voice rang out. Lina ducked down, startled by the voice speaking her own tongue.
“Q-quarantine?” she asked, ignoring how polite and friendly the voice in the computer sounded. It was a trick of some kind. A trick to get her to let her guard down, to get her to reveal the location of Mabnoa to them. But she wouldn’t. She’d die first.
“Please comply with our quarantine procedures for the safety of the crew,” the voice repeated as the Fibbun grunted again. He still glowered at her.
Lina frowned. “Can you understand anything I’m saying?” A blank stare answered her.
She took a hesitant step forward, looking at the keyboard. It was covered with foreign symbols that didn’t mean much to her, but on the screen, the translation program looked intuitive enough.
“Can… can I?” she asked him, tentatively reaching for the screen. The Fibbun grumbled something, but the computer didn’t translate it. He smacked her hand away.
Lina frowned and set the gown down on the floor, crossing her arms. “I’m not doing anything until we can talk,” she said, even stamping her foot for effect.
Even if he couldn’t understand her words, her body language told the Fibbun everything he needed to know: she was going to be difficult if she didn’t get something.
His voice came out in a growl as he muttered something and took a single — albeit huge — step away from the computer to let her access it.
Lina studied the machine like she would any other. Without being able to understand the input controls, it was more difficult than she’d have liked, but eventually she did something which she was pretty sure reversed the translation software.
The Fibbun shifted from one foot to the other, his gun now pulled in front of him like he expected her to try to steal the ship from him or something. Not that it was a bad idea. It was something she’d considered, but she’d seen very little of the place and for all she knew, this ship could house hundreds, if not thousands of Fibbuns. Trying to take it over was probably suicidal.
“Here goes nothing,” she muttered. “Why am I here?” She figured she should start out easy.
The computer spat out a bunch of grunts and grumbles.
The Fibbun’s forehead wrinkled and he stepped forward, typing something in before the computer said: “You are in Quarantine.”
“Why?”
“For the safety of the crew.”
“What about my friend?” Lina held her breath, her skin going cold and clammy as she prepared herself for the answer.
“He is also in Quarantine.”
A wave of relief washed over her, but she couldn’t be sure that was confirmation of his safety. “Is he alright?”
“He will recover from his injury.”
This time, she sighed, that knot of dread that had been coiling and tightening in her stomach finally unraveling. Bain was okay. He was alive.
“I want to see him.”
“No.” Now the Fibbun picked up her gown and shoved it into her arms again. “Change for the scanner,” the computer translated.
He pointed his gun at her now, seemingly tired of their conversation.
“I… Can I have some privacy?” she asked.
The computer translated what she said, but threw up an error on the last word, just repeating what she’d said. The Fibbun scowled and thrust the barrel of the gun at her.
“No more talking,” the translation said.
“Please,” she said, not knowing how to ask for privacy when their language didn’t seem to have a word for it. “Please, I need to change alone… for modesty?” Maybe their language had that word, at least.
He looked confused, but finally shook his head.
Lina blew out a heavy breath, her hands shaking as she unfolded the dress. “Can you… turn around at least?”
After a moment of staring at her like he wasn’t going to acknowledge her request, the Fibbun finally turned around, blocking the only door with his bulky frame.
Lina stripped as quickly as possible and tossed the sheath dress — made of a rough cotton-like material in a plain beige color — over her head, shivering as the cold air on her bare skin produced goosebumps up and down her body.
“O-okay,” she said through chattering teeth, her arms still wrapped around her waist.
The Fibbun turned long enough to look her over and then went to the computer. His fat fingers moved over the keyboard quickly and the glass tube in the middle of the room receded into the floor, leaving only a white ring in its place.
“Step into the circle,” the computer voice said. No pleases now. If he had been trying to trick her into thinking he was friendly, he’d given up the charade rather quickly.
Still, Lina couldn’t argue with him now. Bain was alive. He was okay. She couldn’t risk anything happening to her before she saw him again. Once they were together, they could find a way out of this.
So she stepped into the circle, and immediately the tube extended all the way to the ceiling, leaving her completely trapped.
The tube was big enough to fit a Fibbun in, so it wasn’t that it was crowded to Lina, but without a way out, she couldn’t help but feel nervous. At least it wasn’t dark.
A soft humming started, and then the air turned sweet, then metallic-tasting as a colorless gas flooded the tube. Blue light crackled along the outside of the tube and Lina shivered, not knowing what the machine was doing. He’d called it a scanner, but she’d seen for herself that the translations weren’t perfect. ‘Scanner’ could mean ‘gas chamber’ for all she knew.
But just as quickly as it started, it ended. The blue light went away, the air cleared, and the tube dropped down to let her out again.
The Fibbun picked her clothes up off the floor and thrust them toward her, already turning his back to block the door again.
Being back in her own clothes made her feel less exposed, at least, but the lack of information still had her mind running wild. “So… everything’s okay then?” she asked, but the computer translation didn’t come.
The guard turned his big, square head enough to look at her and then he opened the door, stepping out. He waited on the other side of the door, but Lina hesitated. Where was he taking her now? A prison cell? It seemed most likely. She shuddered. Maybe Bain would already be there. That would be enough to make it worth it.
“Where are we going?” she knew it was ridiculous to ask. He wasn’t going to answer her. And just as she expected, he grumbled and grabbed her by the wrist, his hand leaving a sticky, slimy ring around her arm. He yanked her through the door and stood behind her, the gun clearly aimed at her.
“Okay, okay,” she said. Fighting and struggling was only going to make him more annoyed with her. She’d have to just go along with whatever for a little while until she could come up with an escape plan.
“But I don’t know where we’re going. Leading the way is going to be pretty hard,” she said, taking three steps forward until there was a three-way split in the hallway. She looked back at her captor and he seemed to get the gist of what she was saying as she threw her arms up and looked all around.
Grumbling non-stop, he took her by the arm and steered her through a maze of corridors. She tried her best to remember the route they took, hoping she could find her way back to the receiving bay if necessary, but what good would that even do her? Their ship was toast. Disabled and useless now. Getting back to it wasn’t going to help her and it would be exactly what they’d expect her to do. They’d have no trouble finding her.
The long corridors further in the ship weren’t as clean and sterile as the quarantine area. Elsewhere, the ship was exposed metal and rusted rivets, the hallways sported drips and leaks and at least half of the air vents rattled and produced air that was either way too warm or way too cold. She didn’t know what kind of climate these aliens lived in, but she didn’t need to to know that their ship needed some serious TLC. Maybe she could use that somehow. It was something to keep in mind.
Besides the poor state of the ship, Lina noticed the sheer magnitude. These hallways and corridors seemed never-ending, and they passed by dozens of doors on their trek. It was huge and had to have a massive crew. A veritable army. How would they ever be able to get away?
The Fibbun guard hauled her up a set of clanky metal stairs, the whole set rattling and groaning with each step. It seemed like it would give way any moment, but there were well-worn grooves into the steps that told the story of how often they were used. They had to be more solid than they seemed.
He brought his slimy, webbed fingers up to panel by a door and it slid open, getting stuck half-way until he shoved on it and it retreated the rest of the way into the wall. Once they were in the room, the door slowly hobbled closed.
Lina turned her attention away from the door. “Bain!” she cried, trying to pull from the Fibbun’s grip. Bain was standing next to a guard of his own — or, rather, being propped up by his guard. His shirt was gone, his chest and torso bare except for the wide band of gauze wrapping around his entire rib cage.
Lina’s own guard didn’t give her an inch, hauling her back towards him before making his way forward.
“Lina,” Bain said, his eyes not quite fully focused. “I’m so happy to see you.”
“Are you okay?”
He nodded, but it wasn’t his normal perfunctory nod; his head seemed to be out of his control, his chin dropping down to his chest before his neck bent back and he was practically looking at the ceiling. “Yeah,” he said, his voice not as crisp as she was used to. “Great, actually.” Now he was slurring.
Lina narrowed her eyes, suspicion rising. “Are you in any pain?”
“Psh.” He waved her off, almost falling forward as his arm threw him off-balance. His guard kept a firm hold of him, so he didn’t fall. “Not at all. Never better.”
Great. He was on some kind of pain medication and it was making him loopy. If it was anything like the time Mom broke her leg, he wouldn’t remember any of this.
As much as she’d been desperate to see Bain again, this wasn’t the state she wanted him in. He wasn’t useful like this. She needed him sharp and aware, not high and falling over. If they were going to find a way out of this, she’d have to do it alone.
It looked like they were on the bridge of the ship. There were crew members at stations around the big room, paying them no mind, and a raised dais that looked over a wide-open windshield. The room had to be four stories tall, the ceiling receding into shadows at the very top, and there were open walkways along the perimeter of the circular room, allowing people to move freely between the stations on each level.
But why had their guards brought them here? Unless…
A huge Fibbun, more terrifying and imposing than the others, marched out of a different door, flanked by two guards of his own. His uniform was obviously more decorated than the others, and the moment he walked in, every other crew member stood and performed the same strange gesture — a salute of some sort, it seemed.
Lina swallowed, sending a quick glance at Bain who was busy remarking on his guard’s strange appearance.
“...and your eyes… how do you look forward like that?” he giggled.
Yeah, he was definitely not going to be any help facing the Captain.
The Fibbun she assumed to be the Captain of the ship took his place on the raised dais alone, his guards on either side of the steps leading up to it. He grunted something and the crew all took their seats again as Lina and Bain were ushered forward.
Lina stumbled as her guard pushed her forward, her heart thumping madly, her head filled with the droning buzz of never-ending questions. What did they want with them? What were they going to do with them? Would they ever be free again? Would they even live through the day?
The Captain started speaking, but Lina’s guard interrupted with something, pushing her until her toes connected with the riser of the first step leading up to the dais. She lurched forward, catching herself before she fell completely.
The Captain barked an order to the bridge and a smaller Fibbun with bright blue veins under their mottled gray skin ran full-tilt to the dais, shoving Lina aside and tripping over itself to do the weird salute thing again before handing over a small metal box.
The Captain spoke again.
“You can understand this?” the box said.
Lina nodded slowly. “Y-yes. Please, why are we here?”
The Captain grumbled. “You don’t know?”
“I—”
“Because you’re monsters,” Bain said, his eyes barely open, his words slurring together.
The box translated and there was a grumble of displeasure throughout the bridge, Fibbuns on all side taking offense and getting louder and angrier.
“Please, he doesn’t know what he’s saying, he’s—”
“I’m a prince,” Bain said, loud enough to echo in the huge space. “And kidnapping a prince is an act of war.”
Please stop, Bain, Lina prayed, wishing that the drugs they’d given him for the pain had also rendered him temporarily mute.
A new flurry of grunts and garbled sounds rose up and the Captain looked surprised by this new information, considering Bain carefully. He blinked, first one set of eyelids, then another, and his huge mouth moved in a way that Lina thought might be a smile, though she couldn’t really make out most of their expressions other than anger. That one seemed to be the default.
The Captain tossed the metal box in his hands and the smaller Fibbun from earlier dove to catch it. Then the Captain said something that wasn’t translated, and Lina’s guard pulled her back again as the murmuring in the bridge died down. Bain’s guard hauled him up too, and they were both marched out of the room.
Whatever chance she’d had of pleading their case, of asking for leniency, was gone now. Bain had shown all their cards and the whole hand hadn’t even been dealt. She wanted to be furious with him, but how could she be? He was high as a kite and didn’t know what he was saying. It was just unfortunate that they decided to take the drugged man at his word, rather than dismissing his claims as the ravings of a lunatic. Maybe she could still try to explain that. But she’d need to convince them to turn the translators back on.
The guards led them down, deeper into the ship where the need for repairs was even more evident. Whole corridors were blocked off, lights out, airlocks sealed. There were puddles of various liquids — water, coolants, maybe even fuel? She couldn’t be sure — gathered along the edges of the hallways, with pipes overhead steadily dripping. Even the lights that worked were dim and flickering, though neither guard seemed to notice or care.
They went through a set of three locked doors, each one slamming closed behind them before the next would open. Bain’s incessant insults reverberated from the walls the whole journey; Lina was glad that the guards weren’t translating what he was saying. He was venomous, full of hatred for this enemy he didn’t even know existed two days ago.
But she could partially understand where he was coming from. He may not have known the details of the Fibbuns, but he’d grown up his entire life knowing about the destruction that befell his people and the fear that kept them locked in place and isolated. But for Lina, who didn’t grow up with any of that, who only wanted to know who her people were and what had happened to her parents, she couldn’t muster up the same hatred.
Maybe the Fibbuns did kidnap her parents and force them to work. Maybe that’s why they sent her away. But she didn’t know; not really. And Bain’s constant barrage almost made her feel bad for them, even though they’d destroyed their ship, captured them, and now, seemed to be dragging them to the ship’s version of a dungeon. Even with all that, Bain’s insults felt low.
After the third heavy door slammed down behind them, they were in a long hall of similar doors, each with a thick window inset. She had to stand on her tiptoes to see in, but the rooms looked plain with sparse furnishings, and each one they passed was empty.
“Please,” she said, turning to the guard who’d been with her this whole time. Maybe he didn’t understand her words, but she felt they’d built some kind of rapport. “Please let me explain. He’s… He’s not feeling himself and I’m sure if we could just talk about this that—”
The other guard stopped in front of one of the doors, wrestling to keep Bain upright as he tried to melt into the floor. If she wasn’t so worried about what the future held, the scene might almost be funny, Bain’s feet slowly sliding out from under him as the big Fibbun guard tried to use one hand to unlock the door all while keeping Bain standing.
Finally, the other guard grunted and just let Bain crumple into a puddle on the floor. It was clear he wasn’t putting up any real resistance, and once the door was open, the guard dragged Bain into the room and deposited him in the middle of the floor, seemingly washing his hands of the whole mess. She couldn’t be sure, but the guard definitely looked relieved to not have the wayward prince as his charge anymore.
“Please,” Lina pled to her guard, trying to convey with her eyes the desperation in her soul. She didn’t know what waited for them once those doors closed and locked them in, but she would do everything in her power to not find out.
The guard hesitated as his comrade closed Bain’s door and moved down the line to open another. His expression was unreadable, but his eyes kept moving, looking in different directions as he stayed rooted in place with his slimy hand wrapped around her upper arm.
The other Fibbun grunted something, gesturing to the open door down the way, but her guard just grunted back and re-opened Bain’s door, ushering Lina into the room-slash-cell beyond.
“Please just listen to me!” Lina cried as the door closed between them. Through the window, she saw her guard watching her, looking confused. She realized he’d done her a favor, putting her in the same room with Bain. They’d planned to keep them separated, but her guard had broken protocol to do this nice thing for her. Maybe he couldn’t listen to her right now, but this was a gesture of goodwill if she’d ever seen one. What did it mean?