Chapter Text
I was roused by tapping on my pod's glass. Groggily, I thought that it might have been passengers, willing passengers, tapping on my glass again, poking at the novelty of having a human on board. When the tapping didn't stop, not being shooed away by ship security and staff, I made more of an effort to open my eyes.
I was still floating in the suspension gel, wires and monitoring devices stuck here and there, a breathing mask and tube firmly over my nose and mouth. The light coming in the viewing ports was different, a different hue, a different angle. I'd been moved.
The tapping stopped, and there was a thud at the base of the pod. Slowly, the gel began to drain from the small pod, leaving me sticky and shivering on the padded interior. But not for long. A hatch opened, and the aliens reached in, detaching me from the wires and things. I gasped and filled my lungs with air when they took off the mask, but then clamped my mouth shut. I wasn't going to speak a single word, not willingly, not to them.
I was lifted out of the pod, the small thing just big enough to hold me. As I was placed on my feet, I looked up at the aliens. These were the tall ones, chittering about in a language I definitely didn't know or could speak, and they had too many limbs for any decent creature.
We were in a large room, with many aliens working on consoles and screens, all of them covered head to toe in their version of biohazard suits. Probably because of me. Everything looked clean, and smooth. The sedatives in the gel were still affecting me, or else everything looked too white and blurred into other colours in the corners of my eyes. Two aliens took me by the wrists and started to lead me away.
I looked back at the pod, and saw another alien take a bundle from a compartment. A clear box, with my old stuff inside. I would probably never see it again, and there was nothing I could do. I eyed the aliens' many limbs, knowing that if I tried stopping or struggling in my sedated state, they'd probably just pick me up and keep on walking. So I settled for glaring as they brought me to a short closed door on one side of the room. It was a strange short door, since these aliens were so tall, they wouldn't be able to fit unless they ducked -
A light passed over me, and the door opened. The two aliens gathered me up and placed me on the other side of the perfectly-sized human door.
The door shut behind me.
I blinked as suddenly, light and seeing made sense.
The room was a chipper sunflower yellow, tiled but textured under my bare feet. Looking around, I was in a bit of awe. In one corner was a shower and bath, with one of those long reaching shower heads with several settings. There was also a toilet, a sink, and a counter with an impressive array of grooming supplies. Nothing like hair spray and deodorant, I noticed, but they provided bath things like soap, shampoo, conditioner, and body washes. Next to a large stack of towels, a sign on the wall read in several Earth languages to please feel free to use the faculties.
I touched my gel infused hair. Even before I had been picked up, it had been a few days between washings. Lakes were too cold this late in fall, and we weren't always welcomed in the big cities where you could go to a bath house. I eyed that bath tub hungrily.
I stripped the scrubs the authorities had given me. Finding a basket with a pictorial for putting wet towels, I stuffed my old scrubs at the bottom. I fiddled with the controls of the bath, figuring out how to use it, and spent some time smelling the shampoos and body washes, making my selection. And then I had my bath.
I felt very good to be clean again. Wasn't quite worth all the trouble though, but a very nice opening gesture.
Since the floor was textured, I didn't fear slipping, so I didn't bother completely drying off to wander over to the sink and inspect myself in the mirror. Yes, yes, there I am, quite flat chested, no shape, and young looking. I almost was released on being a minor, until someone did a DNA identification scan and brought up my actual age. Whoops.
Blue eyes and brown hair. I usually keep it shorter than this, but my good scissor broke, so now it's about chin length. I still look like a boy when I want to. I can look like a girl when I want too.
I looked at the counter of grooming supplies. No scissors. No sharp pointy things that could be used as a weapon. Sigh. Either a general safety precaution or someone read my file. There are combs and brushes, so I fuss with my hair, my only vanity, and use the mirrors to inspect my scars.
They are watching. Of course they're watching. No one's in a hurry though, cause I'm here for the rest of my life. Might as well give as well as I'm going to get.
But really, what else is there for me to do in here? I grab a towel, and dry myself off. The trouble with short hair is that it kind of ruins your excuse that your hair is still wet because it drys so fast. Will I get to keep my hair?
There's another door on the other side of the room. I've been avoiding looking at it. It has a sign that says "when done, clothes through here." Aliens have terrible grammar. I pick up all the towels I've used and dropped them into the basket, and kept one last clean one to wrap around myself. Yes, they've seen me naked already. That's not the point.
I want my stuff back, is the point. I want to go home.
But I made my choice, a long time ago. I grip the edge of the towel and step through the door.
The next room was also empty. Just me.
It was full of shelves, with stacks of clothes. Not much bigger than the last room, but this time the walls were lined with shelves. There were stacks of clothing, and each shelf had labels for sizing. Another sign, roughly saying to dress myself.
I wandered the stacks for a while, just taking it in. The sheer amount of clothing! And the colours! And I could pick any of it.
'This will be such a pretty prison uniform,' the back of my head said. I stopped, my hand on top of a gorgeous pink shirt. Slowly, I took another look at the clothes, wiping the beaming grin off my face. Every piece of clothing in room came of the same pattern, with maybe a different neckline here, a different hemming there.
A sigh to myself, I found a stack of underwear, and made my selections. Dressing quickly now, I turned and found a corner of soft cloth shoes, more like slippers, really. Tired of being barefoot, I found a pair in my size in black, and put them on. As for clothes, I simply found my sizes and picked a random top, recieved a blue long-shirt that reached mid-thigh. I tried for black pants, but could only find navy in a pants that are a little baggy on me. It feels like wearing pyjamas. At least it's a comfortable prison uniform.
The sign over the next door said "food this way," and my stomach was starting to growl. How can you fight aliens when your stomach is growling? I was clean, dressed, and could hit them with my soft pathetic shoe.
I walked through the next door.
Hands - can I even call them hands? No - paws reached out of nowhere and grabbed me. I screamed.
Oh, I should have expected it. There was no way I was going to continue walking through a series of empty rooms, going on and on and on. But sheesh, out of nowhere?
I couldn't see, it was blurry and I was grabbed, being dragged somewhere. I lashed out with my fists, hitting whatever had me.
"Get off me! Get off me! Put me DOWN!"
Suddenly, I was let go, and stood blinking. I turned on my heel and saw a glimpse of a great hairy thing disappear through a sliding door on the far side of the room. The door closed and seemed to blend with the wall. Before I could leap forward to investigate, someone made a sound behind me.
It wasn't quite a clearing-your-throat sound; it was the sound of someone trying to mimic clearing their throat. Someone would couldn't do it properly. It was an alien sound. I turned slowly.
Somehow before, I missed the sight of a table, large enough for a meal set up on one side with an empty chair", and an alien sitting on the other side with a folder open. The alien made a well-practiced human gesture, inviting me to sit in the empty chair. "Please, sit and eat."
Apparently my stomach has no sense of danger, because it loudly growled, and I decided not to start things off with a hunger strike quite yet. I warily approached the chair and sat down. The alien was more human sized, or at least appeared so sitting down, and looked like a human male, so I called it a "he."
I didn't recognize his species from the brochures, but I kept an eye on him as I glanced at my plate. He was bright red, after all. My food, on the other hand, seemed more Terran, chicken breast with a little sauce, some potato and some green vegetable. A glass of milk to wash it down, and at the side, a few slices of fruit.
"What was that, that grabbed me?" I folded my hands in front of me.
He glanced at me refusing to eat, then returned to his reading. "That was -" he said a word I couldn't pronounce "- accidentally got in here, was getting it out when you arrived, very bad timing. But you scared it! Gone now." He looked at me and gave me a firm nod. So. That was the explanation I was going to get, if it wasn't the truth. I met his stare for a moment, then unfolded my hands and picked up my utensils. Satisfied that I was eating, he went back to his files.
I ate slowly, carefully, tasting each bite for additional substances. I couldn't taste any, but that doesn't really mean much anymore.
The red alien glanced up when I neatly put my knife and fork across my plate. "So, you are finished? Shall we drink tea?"
I am not sure how, but he produced a teapot and tea cups. Nice fancy ones, and poured us tea. I don't know what blend the tea was either. It tasted like Earth tea, but I'm not a tea expert. Why did I drink it? Oh right, because he was drinking from the same pot.
"So, so," he said, as I sipped my tea, now clean, and clothed, and fed. "You are Wee-ill-son.”
I winced as he tried to pronounce my name. Of course it's my file he's reading in front of me. I lean forward. "Wilson, my family name."
He blinked yellow eyes. "Family name, personal name…. Lu-ka.”
I nod. “Yes, Luka.”
“Lu-ka Wah-ill-son.”
Eh. Close enough. “Yes.” But this is getting old, fast.
He flicked a page. I finished my tea, and set the cup down on the table. I knew I looked young, but did not even aliens take me seriously? I will hit him, I will hit him with my shoe. It may be made of cloth, but it will hurt. Probably. Now, now, we’ve been fairly agreeable so far, let’s not ruin it.
“You have an impressive resume of accomplishments, Mizz Wah-ill-son” the red alien said. “According to Terran government.”
“I am an important member of my community,” I replied. It really depends on how one defines community and which community you asked. “I really do not appreciate being removed from it.”
He made a sound, neither agreeing or disagreeing. A light flashed on the table. He didn't seem to see it, but he reached out to touch it.
“It’s time for your medical appointment now.”