Page 24 of Stripped By the Alien

For several moments she studies the creatures. Her suspicion fades into concentration as she follows their movements across the hull. Then she points toward one of them and looks at me. When I don't immediately react, she points toward another farther away.

Questions again. There is no fear in the gesture. She doesn't retreat from things she doesn't understand. She examines them.

The realization pleases me, for some reason. Most species become cautious when confronted with something unfamiliar. The female appears determined to learn how everything works. Even now, aboard an alien vessel surrounded by strangers, curiosity continues competing successfully against common sense.

She points toward a third maintenance creature.

“Yes,” I reply as if she can understand. “That is indeed a Gluns. They are used for maintaining and repairing equipment. They come from a planet my brood stripped bare, and were spared for their skill. They now work for us. A Gluns.” I’m happy with my idea. If she knows that perhaps her kind will not be devoured by the swarm, she might be more cooperative.

The female immediately turns back toward the transparent wall and continues studying the workers outside. Watching her, I realize I have unconsciously slowed my pace to match hers.

At first her attention remains fixed on the living corridors and the crew moving through them. Then we enter a larger chamber. A central shaft rises through several levels of the ship while workers travel up and down its sides. Cargo creatures haul supplies through openings that appear and close.

The female slows near the railing and studies everything. I find myself watching her instead of the chamber.

Every new discovery earns the same sequence of reactions. She begins with caution. Then curiosity takes over. After that she starts examining details, trying to understand how the unfamiliar pieces fit together. The pattern has become familiar enough that I can almost predict what will catch her attention next.

Sris climbs onto the railing beside me and follows my gaze toward the female. "She notices everything."

"She’s quite intelligent,” I agree. “Making her way almost through the mine field was proof enough."

"Intelligent enough to know where she came from."

I suppress a sigh. The topic keeps returning no matter how often I dismiss it. "We've already discussed this."

"We discussed methods." Sris watches the female for a moment before looking back at me. "We never finished discussing value."

The irritation arrives immediately. "The value is obvious."

"Then perhaps it deserves reporting."

The suggestion annoys me. The Queen doesn't need fragments, guesses, and speculation. She needs facts. "The Queen can wait until I know something useful. For instance, what if these aliens are unusually good space pilots? Perhaps, when we Harvest their world, we can catch some of them and have them work for us. That would make my discovery even greater! The Brood and our Queen would benefit more.”

The female glances back toward us. She cannot understand the words, but she clearly recognizes that the discussion concerns her. Her eyes move between us while she tries to read meaning from expressions and gestures alone.

Sris notices it as well. "The answer is standing right there."

"The answer is standing there wrapped in packing material," I scoff. “We will extract the information we need. At the right time.”

"Yes, Chief Harrower. And then I suppose we will have to consider if she is a trap or a real clue to new glory."

I fold my arms and study the female for a moment. Somewhere beyond the minefield lies her world. A world capable of building starships and sending them into deep space. "We will, of course."

"And if her world is as wealthy as we suspect?"

I allow myself a thin smile. "Then the Queen can scarcely avoid making me a Royal Mate. I will have immense honor, unimaginable riches and a great deal of offspring."

The female continues watching us. Her attention moves between my face and Sris's claws as though she is trying to follow the conversation.

Then a voice speaks from somewhere near her waist. "Nora."

The female freezes. Sris freezes. For a heartbeat nobody moves.

Then the voice speaks again. "Dunut telthem were Urth is."

The sound is unmistakably coming from inside the ridiculous packing material covering.

The conversation dissolves into confusion almost immediately as a small machine comes flying out of the alien’s covering and hovers in mid-air. I recognize it as one of the items I held and dismissed as broken.