Page 25 of Stripped By the Alien

The little machine continues speaking in its strange alien language while Sris stares at it with obvious fascination. The female looks at me with alarm. Every few moments the machine produces another garbled sentence.

"Remarkable," Sris says, reaching one claw up as if to grab the machine.

"It is," I agree. “Not least how the female kept it secret. She knew it was there.”

The machine swivels its sensors toward me. I stare back for several seconds before it emits a rude buzzing sound.

The female's eyes widen, and Sris clicks her claws together in delight. "I believe it dislikes you."

"I gathered that," I growl.

The female appears alarmingly amused by the exchange. If the machine can communicate with her, then it may eventually communicate with us. That alone makes it valuable. Perhaps more valuable than several weeks of questioning. If it truly functions as a translator, it could solve our largest problem.

And it reminds me. “You,” I point at a nearby crewmember. “Get two Kast and bring them here. Two.”

“Yes, Chief Harrower,” the male says and scurries off.

Sris stares up at the machine with all eyes on stalks. "You're not curious?"

"I’m curious,” I admit. “And yet, that machine will still exist in an hour.”

She lowers her claws with obvious reluctance. "If not, it would be a tragic waste of scientific opportunity."

“Remind me,” I state with some impatience, “when did I start to care about science?”

“Oh, you never have,” Sris says. “But it’s one of my little quirks that I like to know how things work.”

The machine emits another buzz and makes a strange display. It rises in the air, does a curious loop, chattering away in some unknown language all the way. Then it starts spinning in place, flashing and buzzing as if it’s lost all reason.

"See?" Sris says. "Even it agrees with me."

I decide not to encourage either of them. Instead, I glance toward the female, intending to see whether she understands any of this discussion.

The space behind me is empty. My gaze sweeps across the nearby chamber. The machine starts to swoop back and forth, making strange, loud sounds and flashing some bright lights.

The female is gone.

A cold sensation runs through my chest. She must have moved while our attention was on the machine. She must have found an opening. And because she understands almost nothing about the Beast, she could now be heading toward any section of the ship.

Sris notices my expression and follows my gaze toward the empty floor. "What is it?"

"The alien is gone."

Her antennae rise immediately. For a moment she stares at the vacant space, then turns toward the surrounding exits. "Oh."

“Grab that machine and lock it up,” I order as I stride off. “That spectacle was a diversion!”

The nearest membrane opens before I reach it, revealing a branching corridor with half a dozen possible routes. I slow for only an instant while I consider them. Any of those passages could contain her. A few lead toward ordinary crew spaces. Many lead somewhere dangerous.

The Beast is not designed for fragile creatures. Cargo passages open without warning. Maintenance chambers contain working organisms capable of disassembling machinery. Feeding pits house predators large enough to swallow crew members. Several sections remain exposed directly to vacuum.

Worse still, the Beast possesses instincts of her own. If she decides the female is an intruder rather than a guest, matters become considerably more complicated.

I break into a run, and behind me Sris scrambles after me as fast as her legs will carry her.

"You think she's trying to escape?"

I glance back long enough to make sure she is keeping up. "Of course she's trying to escape!"