Page 25 of My Alien Sunshine

As she leads me through the ship corridors, I’m puzzled by how silent it is in here. There doesn’t seem to be anyone on board. Not that it’s particularly surprising given they’re docked in a space port known for its recreational facilities. The crew is probably enjoying their time on the station.

“What has Faelin gotten himself into this time? No, wait, let me guess. A bar fight defending someone’s honor? Probably yours?” The female sneers. “He’s too nice for his own sake.”

“He is,” I agree, tears welling in my eyes. “He’s on Drayth’s ship. Drayth is—”

“The local kingpin and a slaver,” the female finishes my sentence, her eyes narrowing on me in suspicion. “Wait a second. I’ve seen you before. On Drayth’s file. You’re Drayth’s associate!” She stops walking, her hand hovering over the gun strapped to her hip. “Tell me,” she demands, her voice icy cold, “how exactly did Faelin get on Drayth’s ship?”

I gulp, realizing just how defenseless I am right now. Stepping back slowly, I raise my arms in what I hope is a universal placating gesture. “I’m not working with Drayth. The evidence against me is fake,” I add, remembering how that security asshole, Gar, tried to arrest me. “It’s all fake. But it doesn’t matter now. All that matters is that we catch Drayth’s ship before they disappear. Please,” I beg, “we need to go after them. Everything depends on it.”

“Everything, hmm?” the female sneers. “You mean your plan to lure us into a trap? You’ve already captured Faelin and now your master wants the rest of us too? Well, he’ll have to do better than this cheap trick.”

I gawk at her, incapable of uttering another word. How in the hell did she reach that conclusion?! “W-what? What trap? What the fuck are you talking about?!” I’m quickly losing my already feeble patience. “Faelin chose to board that ship to save…to save someone. And we need to go now, if we want to have any hopes of catching up to them.”

“I can see how you fooled Faelin,” the female says with derision. “The damsel in distress act is his vulnerability. But your atrocious acting sure as hell won’t fool me.”

“I’m not acting!” I scream, totally losing my shit now. “Please, you need to—” My words are cut off when the barrel of a gun appears in front of my face. Her gun is definitely not set to stun either, this one is designed to kill. In fact, she’s aiming a laser pistol at me right now and I know with certainty it’s going to make a huge, steaming hole in my head if she pulls the trigger.

“Shut the fuck up,” she growls.

The gun doesn’t move an inch. Her hand doesn’t waver. She could kill me in cold blood and not lose a minute of sleep over it. This is why I hate dealing with top-class mercenaries. They’re cold-blooded, bullheaded assholes. “Please,” I say, my voice trembling, “I’m not lying. Just take me to the captain.” There must be someone more reasonable on this ship, surely? There’s no way this crazy bitch is in charge around here.

“I said shut the fuck up. Move,” she commands, gesturing with the gun before returning it to face me.

Knowing nothing I say will change her mind, I walk the direction indicated. At least she’s leading me deeper into the ship and not kicking me out or handing me over to station security.

The sliver of hope that she’s leading me to the captain dies when we arrive at the brig. All four cells are empty and the female ushers me into the closest one, activating the force field to stop me from escaping. She walks away, ignoring my desperate pleas.

Devastated, I sink down onto the bed, covering my face in my hands. A choked sob breaks free. How did I screw everything up so much? I had one job, an easy one. Tell Faelin’s friends to follow Drayth’s ship. Sounds easy and yet, I couldn’t even do that right. Now Faelin and Ellen are being transported to god knows where and nobody’s doing anything to help them.

As tears rush down my cheeks, I wipe them away in frustration. I should have gone with Faelin. I’m useless here. I’d be useless on the Crimson Serpent, too, but at least I’d be useless near Ellen.

My baby. I want to curl up into a ball and cry myself to sleep, but it won’t do any good for Faelin’s so-called friends to see me giving up. So instead, I scream. It's hoarse and only a fraction of the scream can actually be heard so I add the occasional punch into the wall for good measure. It hurts like hell, but it gives me something to focus on other than the pain and desperation currently gnawing at my insides.

“Please, cease the self-harming activities or I’ll be forced to administer a sleeping gas into your cell,” a computerized voice says.

My head jerks toward the cell entrance, but no one is there. The voice seems to be coming from somewhere up on the ceiling. There must be a camera.

I glare in the general direction of the sound defiantly. “Fuck off! If you want to tell me something, come and say it to my face!”

“Unfortunately, that is impossible as I do not possess a face,” the voice replies. Another AI, I realize. I seem to be surrounded by them today. And this one is programmed to knock me out if I’m too much trouble. Fucking perfect.

Since my attempts to punch a hole into the metal wall are giving me more pain than relief, I return to the bed. “There. I have ceased my self-harming activities,” I jeer at the ceiling. “Happy now?”

“I do not have emotions, so I cannot be happy. However, you not harming yourself is a positive outcome for this situation, so if I could be happy, I presume I would be. Is there something I can do for you?”

Isn’t it creepy how subservient these machines are? “Can you let me out?” I try, scoffing since I already know the answer.

“Unfortunately, no. I cannot release you without the approval of a senior crew member.”

“Of course not. Can you at least tell me if we’ve left the station?”

“My apologies, but you do not currently have the necessary clearance for me to share this information with you.” The AI somehow makes it sound like it’s truly sad about it.

I snort. “Great. Then what the fuck are you good for?”

There’s a moment of silence. Just when I begin to worry I’ve somehow angered it, the AI replies, “I’ve counted thirteen million eighty-nine thousand five hundred and forty-five scenarios where my skills are applicable. Therefore, I can say I’m good for thirteen million eighty-nine thousand five hundred and forty-five tasks.”

“Good for you.” I’m arguing with artificial intelligence. My day is getting weirder and weirder. “Do any of those scenarios apply to my situation? Other than knocking me out when I try to hurt myself?”

---