Chapter Text
Rocky
My hand shakes as I move the controls to approach the alien ship. My condition is deteriorating so fast that I really don’t know if I’ll be able to establish any real communication with these aliens before I die, but I have to try.
As my ship approaches their ship, I slow it down, and then, suddenly, right before I match their velocity, I feel something. Nearby, there is an empty body.
The aliens must be keeping at least one pet on their ship, so they have an extra body they can take over if one of their bodies dies, just like the pets that were on my ship before all but one of our bodies succumbed to space sickness. Now, as far as I know, my current body isn’t dying of space sickness, just old age.
As soon as I sense the spare body, it’s clear to me what I need to do. Being in the same type of body that the aliens are will give me a chance to communicate with them more easily. Of course, that also means that it may be difficult to get the alien body back to Erid on my ship, but at least there will be hope that I can do that. There’s no way my current body will survive the trip back to Erid. My current body is feeble and could die at any moment. Better to make the switch now.
I transfer my consciousness to the waiting body.
The first thing I feel is a sudden lack of sound around me. The second thing I feel is a strange, new sensation. New, complicated information is coming from one direction in particular. I try to make sense of it. It feels almost like a camera readout. Does this body have a light sense?
Then the body tries to move.
Feeling the attempted motion makes me aware of my new form. I have four limbs, all of which suddenly want to be flailing around. I think I also have something else sticking out at a different angle, but I’m not sure what shape that thing is. It’s trying to shake back and forth, though.
This isn’t good. It looks like I’m in a resistant body. The pet whose body this was is still conscious. That’s very rare. It only happens about one in 279,936 times an Eridian takes a body. When that happens, the only right thing to do is find another body to transfer to as soon as possible, so the animal doesn’t have to suffer. I reach out my consciousness, searching for other pet bodies on the ship. There are none.
Oh no, this pet is going to be trapped in its own body for at least a hexade now. That’s really terrible, but there’s no way to avoid it.
“Get out, get out, get out! What are you? Get out!”
Oh dear. Now it’s chattering in its mind. It’s probably deeply distressed. “Hey,” I tell it, “It’s going to be okay. I won’t be here forever. You’ll be okay.” I know it can’t understand me, but hopefully just the sound of a calm voice in its mind will make it feel better.
“What are you? Get out of my head! Get out of my body! Oh, God!”
I’m not sure what I said is helping.
I try moving the body. Unfortunately, it’s not intuitive at all. First, my limbs barely move at all. Then, I try harder, and they move too much. I’m not used to this alien body. It’s going to take some work to figure out how to use it.
“What are you doing? Stop! Don’t do anything with my body! Get out!”
I wiggle the other thing that sticks out. I think, from the way my perspective shifts, that this is where the light sensors are. Oh! I know. I can feel it with my limbs. See what shape it is that way.
I jerkily reach a limb towards it. I pat at it with the odd, five fingered hand. My skin is soft and flexible. It feels really weird. I try to focus on what information I’m getting about this body, not how weird some of that information is.
“You’re not very good at this, are you? You should leave. You don’t want this. Human bodies suck, right? You want to leave. Please, leave.”
Okay, the sensory thing is roundish. Good to know. Also, it seems as if only the two limbs that are closer to sensory thing are usable for manipulating stuff. The other ones are encased in some type of clothing. In fact, the body as a whole is clothed. Why would the aliens give their pets so much clothing?
Which reminds me, I’d better start looking for the aliens themselves. It occurs to me that it’s going to be hard for me to introduce myself. I won’t know their language. But they’ll know I’m in here, and that I’m not just a pet that’s gone crazy, because they won’t be able to sense the pet’s body as an available space anymore. They’ll figure out pretty quickly that their spare body has been taken over by an alien. Hopefully they’ll forgive me for jumping into their spare without asking.
I begin my search of the ship, starting by studying the room I’m in. There’s a lot of information. Stuff that feels kind of intense to the light sensors. It’s a bit overwhelming, but the important thing is, there’s no one else in here.
I push off a wall to aim myself towards the exit and into other rooms.
“Where are you going? Please let me go. I’ll do anything you want. Just let me go. Please! This is killing me! I can’t move! I’m going to suffocate in here!”
The pet is still trying to move on its own. It has been this whole time. Another problem with having a resistant pet is that it’s annoying and distracting, although I assume it’s much worse for the pet than it is for the person.
I search the next room. No one in here. The next room. Where is everyone?
“Please. I’ll do anything you want. You can even kill me if you want to. Just please don’t do this. I’ll go insane. This is worse than hell.”
The pet sure has a lot to say.
I move farther through the ship.
“God, I don’t know if I’ve ever prayed before, but I’m praying now. If you can hear me, help me, please. I’ll do anything. I’ll be Christian, Muslim, Buddhist, or whatever you want.”
I reach a room that has no outlet except the one I just came through. Isn’t there anybody on this ship? Where are the people?
And then suddenly a horrible thought occurs to me. What if there are no people on this ship because the pet is the person? What if this pet is intelligent?
I don’t want to find out, but I have to. If I give the pet back some control of its body and it starts to use the machines, then I’ll know.
As soon as I relax my control, the pet intakes air sharply. Then it starts shaking. It's making loud noises and water is coming out of its light sensors. It’s coating the light sensors, making it difficult to perceive anything.
Whether the pet is intelligent or not, I’m pretty sure I’ve deeply upset it.
It moves its cavity in the sensory appendage and starts making noises. “I really meant it, God. Just tell me what to do and I’ll do it.”
It goes quiet for a moment, then it says, “I’m getting out of here while I still can.” It pushes itself back the way we came. I let it, wondering what it will do next.
If this pet is sapient, then I’ve just turned myself into a monster.