Page 12 of My Alien Jewel

He presses something on his datapad, then speaks in his soft language.

“It’s good to see you again,” his datapad says. “I’m sorry about last time. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

I haven’t received an honest apology in years and now I don’t know what to do with it. My lack of response doesn’t deter him.

“You must be thirsty. This is all for you.” He gestures to the supplies laid out in front of the hatch. Besides water, there are more food packages, a plate with fresh pastries that smell so heavenly my stomach rumbles, and a blanket.

I shake my head. I don’t understand. Why would he bring all of this for me?

“It’s all yours. You can take it and bring it to wherever you’re hiding. No one will bother you, I promise. I talked to the captain and he agreed to leave you alone until you’re ready to come out.”

My eyes bulge. This must be a joke. Leaving a stranger wandering all over the ship unchecked? Who does that?

“You look surprised,” the human says,smiling kindly. “I told you. You’re safe on this ship. I know it’s difficult to believe but it’s true.” He points at the water bottles again. “Are you not thirsty?”

I am. I’m so thirsty I could cry but my dehydrated body won’t form tears anymore. Yet, I can’t bring myself to take the water.

The human watches me, scratching his chin, then realization sparks in his eyes. He has pretty eyes. Light brown, like his hair. There doesn’t seem to be anything cruel in them. “Let me guess,”he says, his melodic voice once again butchered by the datapad’s translation. “You’re worried I put something in the water?”

I don’t dare to nod, afraid he would take it as an insult but he reads the answer in my expression.

“Of course you are,” he concludes. “How about I taste it to show you it’s safe? It’s not very hygienic, but I think we can overlook that fact this one time.”

Hygienic? I’m covered in engine sludge and geodes know what else. Hygiene isn’t even in my vocabulary right now.

He shifts his position, slowly picking himself up off the floor. Every muscle in my body goes rigid, every instinct screaming at me to run, but I ignore them. I can’t keep running. Literally. My body is past the point of total exhaustion and on its merry way to general collapse.

“I will have to come a little closer,” he says, taking the tiniest of steps toward me, then waiting for my reaction. I don’t move. Another smile brightens his expression. “Oh, forgive my manners. My name is Nikolai. I should have introduced myself earlier. Will you tell me your name?”

Will I? Do I even remember my name? Nobody has used it in years.

I want to tell him my name. Perhaps hearing it from someone else’s mouth would make me feel less like a thing and more like a person.

I open my mouth, but no sound comes out. My throat feels like a giant hand has gripped it and squeezed, and it has nothing to do with the dehydration. I can’t breathe, I can’t think. The only thing I feel is panic seeping into my bones.

I’m not supposed to speak. Ever. The only sounds I’m allowed to make are humming when I sing or screaming in pain when I’m beaten. Not words. Never.

“Shut up, bitch. Nobody asked you anything.” “Keep your fucking mouth shut or I’ll sew it shut.” “Open your mouth again and I’ll knock out your fucking teeth.”

The voices assault me all at once. Slapping my hands over my ears, I’m desperate to block them out but it does nothing because they’re in my head. They’ll forever be in my head. I want to scream but only a hoarse wail comes out of my mouth.

“It’s okay,” another voice speaks, piercing through the cacophony. It’s mechanical and emotionless, but somewhere behind it, a real person speaks, their soft, dulce voice lilting up and down melodically. “You’re safe now. You’re safe, I promise.”

My eyes are closed. Some fucking genius I am, completely losing it in the presence of a person who might be set on hurting me. Nikolai isn’t doing anything sinister, though. He didn’t even approach me while I was clearly panicking even though it looks like he wants to. There’s pain and understanding in his eyes. Is he sad on my behalf? This is surreal.

He crouches down a few feet away from the hatch I’m in. “Everything is going to get better now, I promise. When you are ready, we can remove that collar from around your neck.”

My hand flies to my throat, touching the cold, heavy collar there. I’ve worn it for so long it feels like a part of me now. A constant reminder of what I am. Removing it is a wasted effort. Whoever owns me next will just snap a new one around my neck.

Nikolai reaches for the nearest bottle of water and pops the lid open. “Za zdorovie!(Cheers!)” he says with a somewhat cheeky smile before putting the bottle to his mouth.

Captivated, I watch his throat work as he swallows the precious liquid, my own throat growing even dryer.

“See? No drugs. Just good old fashioned water. Here.” He places the water as close to me as he can without changing his position.

I don’t hesitate anymore. I pull the scarf away from my mouth, snatch the bottle, and a nanosecond later, I’m gulping it down, my aching throat screaming as the ice cold liquid flows into it.

Oh. So good.

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