Page 61 of Stripped By the Alien

“Well, yeah. We know that. But we should think of what to do when we find Sophia.”

The drone hovers closer and lowers his voice even more. “I want to point out that Earth’s position weakens a great deal if she’s found. Because then the locust will have two captives, and twice the chances of one of them telling him where Earth is.”

"Sophia would never tell him," I state with conviction. "She knows the stakes here." But even as I say it, Krix'vorr's words echo back at me — they modify bodies and minds — and for one cold instant I wonder what's left of the Sophia I knew, if the Gzet have had her for weeks.

“Not willingly,” Lucius agrees.

A thought passes through my mind: Lucius has not been a reliable helper since the minefield, and I can’t live with that. I need to know that he's fully on my side, and fully committed to the best outcome.“And what do you want me to do?” I add with fake nonchalance, hoping he gives me the only right answer to that. “Kill her and then myself?”

“I didn’t suggest that,” the drone sniffs. “But that would eliminate all the risk.”

A coldness goes down my back at him giving me the wrong answer so casually.

I stiffen, then slowly turn to face him square on. “What did I tell you about that kind of talk?”

“I’m sorry, Captain,” the drone says, his light an alarmed light blue. “I went back to my old routi-”

“No,” I say with emphasis. “That was a test, and you failed. You knew perfectly well that you were acting against orders. You are not to even vaguely suggest a military officer kill herself. Nor are you to lead her into potential lethal danger like you did in that furnace. You have an infrared sensor, and you must have seen that there was an intense heat source ahead. Now, you are to completely remove that part of your processes as permanently as you can. If you can’t fully purge it, tell me and I will ask Krix’vorr to destroy you completely. Because right now, you’re more dangerous to me than the locusts are.”

I have the pleasure of seeing a drone lose its ability to speak, at least for a second.

“Yes, Captain,” he finally says. “I can treat that logic tree as a virus and isolate it. Stand by. Done.”

“How will I know if that worked?” I ask, finding myself not trusting him.

“If I ever again express myself defeatist, you will know.”

I sigh. That might be too late. “All right. Now go spy on them instead of me.”

“Yes, Captain. I’m sorry.” He buzzes off.

I let out a breath. I do want Lucius around. But he can't keep putting the mission above my life.

- - -

Helped by the translation flower, I catch up with the activity around me. Reports begin circling around the same problem: The Gzet.

A crew member kneels and offers another tablet. "The surviving enemy Harrower's records have been examined, Chief Harrower. There are references to the prey vessel and to Gzet activity in the region."

Krix'vorr scans the writing. His eyes move rapidly across the symbols before he hands the tablet back. "And their location?"

The crewer lowers his gaze. "There is no location attached to the records."

More tablets arrive. More fragments of information emerge from the defeated vessel's archives. Every report seems to confirm the same sequence of events: The Gzet found the wreck. The Gzet removed something from the wreck. Then they disappeared. Nobody knows where they went.

I feel my frustration growing with every report. "They just vanished?" I ask.

Several crewmembers glance toward me before quickly returning their attention to Krix'vorr. "The Gzet specialize in disappearing," he says.

Lucius zooms over. "That suggests a civilization with extensive trade routes, hidden infrastructure, distributed settlements, or all three."

"Exactly." Krix'vorr doesn't even look up from the tablet he's studying. Somehow that makes the agreement feel more definitive.

My brief surge of hope begins fading. Sophia survived the crash. At least I think she did. The Gzet probably took her. Now she's somewhere in a galaxy that suddenly feels impossibly large.

I cross my arms and stare at one of the lenses showing the drifting wreckage field. The answer has to exist somewhere. Entire civilizations don't simply disappear. "There has to be something we're missing."

Krix'vorr hands a tablet back to an underling before answering. "Really?"