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So, there’s no way off this ship without fighting?
I am afraid the Xiphos make fighting necessary.He takes a step closer, bowing his head.I will help as much as possible.
Carson spins to face Xaan. His tone is angry, but not directly accusingthisalien of much more than being inhuman. “What did they do to my son?”
They performed a basic scan on the juvenile to study the human development process, then released him. The Xiphos do not select juveniles for extended study. Small humans have additional maintenance needs that make them unsuitable for long-term captivity.
When Carson makes a fist, I dart over and grab his arm.
Xaan leans away.Please excrete additional serotonin. I do not agree with my enemy. I am only explaining how they think. I do not believe humans should be taken off this planet.
I raise an eyebrow. “But you don’t mind them scanning us?”
Xaan’s tiny mouth twists into a little smile. It’s cute in a highly unsettling way.Your species does similar procedures to the beings you refer to as animals, correct? We are merely in search of knowledge, not intending harm. The Xiphos do not care for the well-being of their subjects. My people do.
Brief conversations go on in whispers among the abductees. They’re comparing dates, trying to figure out how long they were asleep in tanks. The two thirtysomething guys, Bud Medina and Rich Terrell, have been best friends since grade school. They went camping out here together five months ago. Predictably, none of them handle the truth of what the real date is. Of course, IthinkI know what the real date is. No telling how long I was asleep before the alien drugs wore off me.
Seven minutes,says Xaan.
Oh whew. Not long at all.
No. You fascinated the Xiphos so much they dropped everything to begin the examination on you and your friend immediately.
Two loud tones draw my attention to the sliding door out of this room. Know those hollow ducks you squeeze and they make noise? Picture two giant versions of those ducks being stomped on. The sound I can only imagine is aliens’ screams of fear soon drowns under the bellowing roar of a furious Kingsley.
“So much for staying quiet,” whispers Meredith.
“Aha…” I mutter to no one in particular. “I believe my boyfriend is awake.”
Xaan turns his head toward me.How did you—and he—wake up prematurely?
I start for the door. “I’ll explain later.”
Chapter Twenty-two
Abducted
Many words can be used to describe Kingsley.
Terms like strong, powerful, confident, handsome, and so on all come to mind along with many more. ‘Subtle’ is not one of them. I swipe my hand at a mirrored spot of wall beside the door. A faint electronic chirp replies, then the door slides open so fast it seems to disappear. Not even questioning how I knew how to do that. Xaan put it in my head. Better question is why the ship’s sensors respond to me. Guess the aliens didn’t bother to put in a security system. Maybe their IT guy quit and they have no one left to maintain the security database.
The silver metal floor in the hallway outside is even colder than the floor in the room.
I momentarily regret my decision not to wear someone else’s shoes. Nah. I can handle cold more than the imaginary funk living in stranger’s footwear that’s been sitting in a storage bin for who knows how long. Yeah, I know germs aren’t a threat to me, nor is someone else’s shoe truly loaded with disease. Just an ‘eww’ thing. Doesn’t make any sense. Hey, I can be girly sometimes, can’t I?
Alien screams and Kingsley’s growling are obviously coming from a room up ahead on the left. The corridor is circular, bending to the right. Oh, yeah, this thing is literally a flying saucer. Go figure. Always thought that to be nonsense. Then again, I should have known. With enough collective belief, the Universe delivers...
I race over to the source of the commotion, palm the door sensor, and jump back when the large slab of thin metal snaps to one side.
The room appears to be a copy of the one I woke up in. Same table, same tanks.
One Xiphos alien lays sprawled on the floor with a shiny metallic rod sticking out of his eye socket. Kingsley, in his hairy, human glory, is on top of the other one, strangling him with both hands. The oversized head flops around like a ragdoll. I don’t think the big guy realizes he’s already killed that one, too. He’s a little angry.
I walk in close enough for him to see me, but not so close as to catch an accidental fist if he’s out of his mind with rage.
In a totalBeauty and the Beastmoment, the sight of me standing there in one piece is like a sedative. He stops throttling the alien, exhales, then smiles at me. A rod similar to the one stuck in the head of the corpse rolls away from the hand of the alien Kingsley’s throttling. It’s about twelve inches long, round, one end curved to a smooth tip like a chicken’s egg. Umm. Whoa. I do not like what the shape suggests.
“Umm…” I gesture at the metal rod. “Probes? Seriously? Were they…?”
