Page 6 of Secretly Abducted
"Tell him I'm fine," I say as Tev'ra exits at the next platform. "Just need to walk it off."
He gives me what might be a knowing look—hard to tell with the alien facial structure—and then I'm alone in the pod as it continues toward the agricultural district.
The observation platform in Section C is exactly as calming as advertised, if your idea of calming is standing over an alien ocean watching purple seaweed sway in the current while your mind races with frustration.
The platform itself is a work of art—carved from something that looks like white coral but feels smooth under my hands. It extends maybe twenty feet over the water, with organic-looking railings that are just the right height for leaning on. Below, the zhik'ra forest is visible through crystal-clear water that shifts from turquoise near the surface to deep indigo where the plants disappear into darkness.
I've been here maybe twenty minutes, watching farmers in the distance tend to their sections, when I hear footsteps on the platform behind me. They're hesitant, stopping and starting like someone's arguing with themselves about approaching.
"You look older."
I turn to find a Nereidan standing at the platform's edge, not quite approaching. He's wearing simple gray coveralls thatlook like they're standard issue for something, and his skin is doing this rapid shifting thing between blue and gold that makes me think of anxiety even though I can't read the patterns yet.
There's something about the way he said it—not like an observation but like a confirmation. Like he's comparing me to a memory.
"Yeah," I say, tilting my head to study him. He's tall even for a Nereidan, probably seven feet, but there's something uncertain in his posture. "Ten years will do that to a person."
His skin flashes brighter, and I see his hands clench and unclench at his sides. That's when I know.
"It's you," I breathe. "You're the researcher."
He takes a half-step back, his whole body tensing like he might bolt. "I... yes."
"Don't run." I keep my voice calm, raising my hands slowly like I'm trying not to spook a wild animal. "Please. I've been trying to find you since I got here."
"There is no anger?" He sounds genuinely confused, taking another small step backward. His skin is cycling through colors so fast it's almost dizzying. "No pain? No recriminations?"
"Yeah, I was angry," I admit, turning to lean back against the railing so I seem less threatening. The coral-like material is warm against my back from the sun. "For about three days. When Finn told me about his abduction, when I realized you were all real, I was furious. Ten years of thinking I'd hallucinated the whole thing, and suddenly I find out it was real? Do you have any idea what it's like to believe the most important experience of your life was just a drug-induced delusion?"
He flinches, the colors on his skin settling into deeper blues. "I am sorry—"
"No, stop. Let me finish." I take a careful step away from the railing, moving slowly. He doesn't retreat this time. "But after those three days of being pissed off, I realized—you keptme safe. Someone out there, on some alien planet, had kept me safe during the worst three days of my life. And that anger just... turned into a desperate need to say thank you."
A breeze comes off the water, carrying that salt-sweet smell and making the zhik'ra below us ripple in hypnotic patterns. He watches me like he's waiting for something—for me to start yelling, maybe, or demanding answers.
"I didn't know what I was doing," he says quietly. "I just tried to keep you stable."
"Exactly." I move a little closer, noting how the light plays across his skin, creating patterns within patterns. "You didn't understand what was happening, but you stayed with me. You kept me hydrated. You played music when I was restless." I manage a small smile. "Terrible music, from what Kav'eth said, but still."
"The Earth databases were confusing," he says defensively, and something in his earnest embarrassment makes me smile. He fidgets with the cuffs of his coveralls, a surprisingly human gesture. "There were so many categories. I thought 'children's music' would be soothing."
"What did you play?"
"Something about wheels and buses. It had repetitive lyrics."
I laugh, actually laugh, and his skin shifts to warmer colors. "The Wheels on the Bus? You played that for a detoxing teenager?"
"For forty-seven repetitions before I found how to change it."
"Oh my god." I'm grinning now, and some of the tension in his posture eases. "That's amazing. Terrible, but amazing."
We stand there for a moment, the platform creaking slightly as it adjusts to the tide below. Other farmers are visiblein the distance, but none close enough to overhear. Still, he keeps glancing around nervously.
"Can we talk?" I ask. "Like actually talk? Not through Council bureaucracy or formal meetings. Just... talk?"
He looks around again, more deliberately this time. The platform connects to several others by walkways, and there are what look like administrative buildings on the shore with windows facing our direction.
"Not here," he says quietly. "Too many observers."
