Espial Space Station, Mission Day 12, continued
Silas moved the gurney with the male human into the antechamber so that Aiden could bring him to the holding cell in the lower lab. As Aiden left with the male, Silas started removing the female's clothes.
"Silas, WHAT are you doing?!" Mila stepped up to him, feeling a sympathetic sense of violation.
"I… I was just doing the same to her as I did to him. She could have weapons under her clothes," Silas explained.
"Don't you think she would have used them on me by now?" Mila crossed her arms.
"Sorry, I just… It would be easier to study them this way."
"Study them?!" Mila snapped. "We find out they're sentient and speak our language and you still want to study them?!"
Silas shrank back. "I… I only meant… We're never getting an opportunity like this again. To understand another species nearly identical to us."
Mila let out an exasperated sigh that was nearly a shriek of annoyance. "I can't believe you, Silas. Shame on you," she scolded as she slouched in Silas' desk chair.
"I-"
"Go ahead. I don't care what you do anymore." She sulked, avoiding eye contact with Silas at all costs.
Silas sighed. He would never win an argument with Mila. He tried to remain as respectful as possible as he slipped the woman out of her shoes, socks, pants, and shirt. He left her bra and underwear on, and was even thinking of putting a sheet over her torso to pacify Mila. But he stopped when something caught his eye.
He didn't stop because he saw all of her healed scars. The undeniable evidence of her involvement in fights and battles. The knife wounds and gunshot wounds. Silas focused on something else.
There were markings on her skin. In her skin.
'Do just the females have these markings?' Silas asked himself.
There was a tattoo of a small, flower-like design in the middle of her chest, level with her heart. A thin line extended down her sternum before expanding outward into a larger flower design across her lower ribcage, just below her bra.
"Silas… WHY are you staring at her chest?" Mila spoke up harshly.
Silas shook himself from his trance. "She has these… markings. I don't know what to make of them."
Mila stood up with a huff, keeping her arms crossed tightly. She peered over the woman's body, pausing. "Wow… it's beautiful. Wonder if it means something."
"Yeah, I wonder." Silas continued to look over her body to see her other tattoos.
There was an outline of a diamond on her right side, on her ribcage, with a scene of a mountain, forest, and lake held within the diamond. A colored band of leaves wrapped around her left thigh. A bird perched above her left ankle, planet Earth above her right.
Silas lifted up her left arm, seeing a string of planets on the underside. The planets from her solar system. Her right shoulder had a set of symbols neither Silas nor Mila could decipher.
"What's this?" Mila twisted the woman's right arm gently to show her inner wrist.
Sila and Mila stared down at the circular marking filled with details. But it was different from the rest. It was raised and pinkish, evident of healed scarring.
"Was… was she branded?" Mila asked, stepping back.
"I don't know." Silas shook his head.
"What are we going to do with them?" Mila asked.
He shrugged. "I don't know. Just talk to them?"
"Yeah. 'Hi, humans. Surprise! You're not alone in the universe.' Hm, yeah, sure." Mila paused to think. "I'm sure Elias is waiting for an update."
"Hide the truth."
"What?"
"You seem to have no problem doing that."
"I can't fucking believe you right now."
Before another could be spoken, Aiden came back into the lab with an empty gurney. He put it into the antechamber for Silas to put the female on.
"The male's in the holding cell?" Silas asked, wheeling the gurney over to the observation table.
"Yeah," Aiden nodded.
"Any problems?" Silas asked, gently moving the woman onto the gurney.
"No." Aiden shook his head, then stopped. "Oh, one of your computers is beeping."
Silas whipped around to face Aiden. "Which one? Which alert is going off?"
Aiden shrugged. "The screen is flashing green."
"Green? Is that good or bad?" Mila asked.
Silas looked at her and smiled. "It's very, very good. No blood-borne or air-borne diseases that are hazardous to us."
Mila visibly relaxed, relief washing over her. "Thank fuck."
Not wanting to push his luck further, Silas took the woman to the holding cell in the lower lab. Mila soon left the observation room, quickly retreating to her captain's quarters to release her panic and stress in a private environment.
Marco felt the headache pressing against his temples before he opened his eyes. He groaned, rubbing his eyes until he was fully awake. Above him, he didn't see any glass of a pod. And he didn't feel the restrictions of straps holding him down. He sat up, confusion edging over his shock.
Marco started to look around, finally realizing he wasn't in the same room as before. This one was half the size but nearly empty. The walls were clear glass, save for a small partitioned space in the right corner. Those walls were white and Marco could only assume it was a bathroom given the privacy.
He propped himself up on his elbows, looking at where he was lying down. It was a step up from a cot and a step down from his twin bed at home. He still found it comfortable nonetheless. He even had a plush pillow, though no sheets or blankets.
Marco swung his legs off the side of the bed, his bare feet touching down on the cold floor. He froze when he saw the young woman he had rescued earlier. He still didn't know where he recognized her from. She rested peacefully on a simple bed of her own, her dirty blonde hair up in a ponytail, fanned out over her pillow.
Marco stood up and walked up to her bed. He reached out to touch her shoulder, hoping to gently wake her up. But he stopped. Marco couldn't remember the last time he interacted with another human, not counting being here with his captors and this mystery woman. Even just to hold this woman's hand would ground Marco and his wandering mind for an entire year, at least.
Marco reached out and brushed a few pieces of hair off of the woman's face.
Then her eyes snapped open, revealing her deep brown eyes.
Marco opened his mouth to speak but was cut off when the woman grabbed his wrist with one hand, painfully twisting his arm in a direction it wasn't supposed to move in. As she sat up, her other hand closer around his throat.
"Who the hell are you?" She hissed.
"I'm…" Marco heaved for air, "I'm… Marco."
The woman looked Marco up and down, narrowing her eyes at him just in his underwear. Then she looked down at herself, realizing that she was only in her underwear as well. It was something Marco hadn't noticed, given that he was too focused on trying to place her face.
The woman quickly glanced around, figuring out that the new room they were in was one conducive of natural observation.
"Shit," she muttered under her breath.
"Can you let me go now?" Marco asked as loud as he could.
"Fuck, sorry." She let him go before standing up.
"It's alright," Marco answered as he cleared his throat.
"Marco, do you know where we are?" The woman asked, looking around at the space beyond their shared glass room.
"No idea," Marco replied. "What's your name?"
"Valerie."
"Valerie," Marco repeated, hoping her name would jog his memory.
She must have recognized the confusion on his face. "Valerie Alexander."
His eyes flew open wide. "The Valerie Alexander?"
"The one and only." She smiled softly.
"I knew I recognized your face," he smiled back. "But I have to confess I haven't watched you for a couple years."
"Why's that?"
"I moved to Iceland. I guess I wanted safety and isolation over internet connection."
Valerie nodded. "Understandable." Then her face darkened. "How long have you been held here?"
"I don't know," Marco answered. "Last thing I remember was cooking dinner, then hearing something strange outside. Then… I think one of the captors broke into my house and tranquilized me. Every time I've woken up, they've tranquilized me again. What about you?"
"I was 20 miles from Baotou, China. Just finished reporting the night before. I had woken up, gone outside to look at a map for my next trip. I must have been tranqed from behind because I don't remember seeing or hearing anyone." Valerie crossed her arms, deep in thought. She looked up at Marco. "Do you see their face?"
Marco shook his head. "They were wearing exo-armor, a version I've never seen before."
Valerie huffed. "Fuck," she muttered.
"What's wrong?" Marco asked, trying to be helpful.
"Did they say anything to you?"
He shook his head.
"And since you've been here, you haven't seen any of them without their exo-armor?"
He shook his head again. "What are you trying to get at?"
"I think we were taken by…" She trailed off, holding her head in her hands. "I'm gonna sound so fucking stupid for saying this. I'm a reporter for crying out loud," she muttered. Valerie gathered herself, brushing her hair out of her face. "We were taken by aliens."
"Aliens?" Marco asked, the look on his face a mix between shock and confusion.
Valerie sank down onto her bed. "Yeah, aliens. I saw one of them without their helmet on, after you saved me from that chokehold." She paused. "Thanks, by the way."
"You're welcome." Marco pointed to the space next to her on the bed.
Valerie nodded and Marco sat down.
"So did they… look like green men from Mars? Or…?" He asked, curious.
"No. She had like… pink-purple skin. And her hair was… I don't know, it seemed like it was skin and cartilage or something." Valerie put a hand on her forehead, trying to remember.
"'She?'" Marco asked. "How do you know she was a she?"
"Because she looked like a purple version of me! Fuck, I don't know what's going on." Valerie closed her eyes. "Sorry."
"It's okay."
Valerie slowly turned to look at Marco. "She spoke," she admitted.
Marco furrowed his brows. "Spoke how? In an alien language you didn't understand? Or did she speak with a translator? You know, like the old sci-fi movies?"
Valerie shook her head feverishly. "No, she spoke English. Perfectly."
"What?!"
"Yeah. English. Like you and I right now."
Marco was at a loss for words. "This is so messed up. Aliens are real?"
"Apparently so."
"And they speak our language."
"Mhm."
"What do we do?"
"I don't know." Valerie looked at the floor. "We need to get out of here," she muttered, absent-mindedly rubbing her wrists, which were red and sore from her struggle against the restraints.
"You alright?" Marco gently put his hand on hers, turning it over to inspect the damage. He stopped. His fingers brushed over the brand on her inner right wrist. It was a perfect circle, with eight evenly spaced lines extending inward towards an actual number 8 in the center. "You… you know the Dying Languages."
Valerie nodded. "Knowing them all helps me communicate with anyone I come across in my travels."
"You've been all over the world, right?" Marco asked, tracing the design with his finger.
"Yeah. Just about every country," Valerie smiled softly. "Even Iceland."
"Recently?"
She shook her head. "Maybe five years ago." She paused. "Do you know the Dying Languages?"
Marco shook his head. "Just English. Lost all of my high school Spanish and never got around to learning Mandarin. But the five Dying Languages are… Arabic, Portuguese, French… Japanese… Right? And…" He trailed off, forgetting the last one.
"Hindi," Valerie answered for him.
"Right." Marco realized he had been holding Valerie's hand and touching her brand for too long. He let her go, finally understanding some of the effects his isolation has had on him.
The moment grew quiet and Valerie looked to her left. She saw the antechamber that would let them get out, but then noticed the keypad locking them in.
Marco noticed it too. "Hey, we'll get out of here. Don't worry." He put his hand on Valerie's shoulder to give her some comfort.
"Yeah." Valerie started to look at the space beyond their holding cell. It was similar to the previous lab they were held in, with computers and desks lining the walls. Valerie looked up, where the walls met the ceiling. "Shit," she muttered.
"What is it?" Marco asked, trying to find what she was looking at.
"They have surveillance cameras everywhere." Valerie subtly tried to point them all out to Marco.
"Okay, just… stay calm," Marco said for himself more than for Valerie. "Maybe they're not watching us right now."
"Of course they're watching us right now," Valerie snapped, standing up. She started to pace the length of the room, in the area in between the two beds. She kept her eyes on the cameras, doing some mental math. She broke away from her straight path and stood in between the end of Marco's bed and the front wall of the bathroom. "Right here."
"What about it?" Marco stood up.
"Right here is the blindspot in the cameras. They can't see us here."
Marco moved next to her. "Okay, so how do we escape?"
"Are you an electrical engineer or software hacker?" Valerie asked, rubbing her forehead.
Marco shook his head.
She sighed. "Then we can't break ourselves out by overriding the keypad." Valerie let out a deep exhale. "If only I had my backpack. I have enough survival gear in there to…" she trailed off.
"What is it?"
"My satphone," Valerie realized.
"Satphone?"
"Yeah, satellite phone. If I had it, I could call my brother and he could find us and get us out of here," she explained.
"How would he even be able to find us?" Marco asked.
Valerie deflated. "I don't know."
"Okay, don't worry about that. Let's worry about what we need to do right now." Marco gently put his hands on her arms.
She took a deep breath.
Marco and Valerie both turned to face the sound of the lab door opening. Valerie stepped out from the blindspot with Marco on her heels. They watched as their three captors came into the lab, lining themselves up in front of the glass holding cell. They all had their exo-armor on, with helmets, and one of them held a rifle by their side.
Instinctively, Marco stepped in front of Valerie, feeling like he needed to protect her. He didn't see the brief look of annoyance cross Valerie's face.
"The fuck you freaks want?" Valerie snapped, remaining behind Marco.
The three of them simultaneously took their helmets off, revealing their purple-tinted skin and strange, but eerily human-like, facial features. The female alien seemed like she was in charge, appearing tired and dragged-down from the job. The male to her left had curiosity in his eyes but concern across his face. The one with the gun seemed displeased yet indifferent at the whole situation.
"I said, what do you want?!" Valerie repeated herself, raising her voice.
The female answered. "We wanted to apologize."
Marco and Valerie froze.