Page 41 of Stripped By the Alien

“Watch out,” I tell him as I make the final adjustments. “You almost said something nice about him.”

“Oh, he clearly has a skill for healing. I don’t know that modern Earth medicine could have brought you back at all. His intimate process did within minutes. I’m allowed to be impressed by that. While I must note that you were in no position to give consent, the locust clearly did it as a healing process and not to enjoy himself. Captain, would you look at this, please?” He flies to a corner of the room and dives down almost the floor.

I walk over and bend down. “What?”

“Another opening,” the drone says. “Small, and it looks utilitarian.”

Indeed there is another round hole in the membrane, almost invisible from just a few feet’s distance. I hold my hand in front of it. “Ventilation? Heating? There’s a draft coming out.”

“A ventilation system would make sense,” the drone says. “I wonder if it can be made bigger.”

I gingerly touch the opening. Everything about this ship feels alive, and it’s like touching someone else’s body. But the irregular opening does widen to a foot diameter. “Okay. Now what?”

“This might be exactly what you’ve been looking for,” Lucius says with an eagerness I haven’t heard a lot from him. “An escape.”

I kneel down and peer into the opening. It’s all dark red and there’s a weak light in there. “Or a way deeper into captivity.”

“We’ll never know if we don’t try,” the drone chirps. “It may lead to priceless information about the ship and about the locust.”

“Sometimes I think you’re more concerned about the mission than about my welfare,” I mutter. I don’t like the looks of this opening.

“Perish the thought, Captain,” Lucius says. “But if you’re going in there, you might as well start now. We don’t know when your jailer will return.”

I prod the fleshy material around the opening. “You know, he doesn’t seem that much of a jailer. More like a military officer who’s running out of options.”

“I hope you’re not starting to sympathize with that locust,” Lucius says. “Never forget that he’s the enemy. Shall we go?”

I steel myself and put my head through the opening. “If it slams shut now and cuts my head off, I’ll blame you,” I state.

“So noted,” the drone says behind me. “Go on.”

My shoulders stretch the hole, and I imagine this is what it must feel like to be born. My hips stretch it even more, but then I’m through. The tunnel is dark red, and the slow pulsation of the ship is more noticeable in this small space. I can just about crawl on all fours, and it’s made easier by the walls being soft and forgiving when I touch them. “Are you following me?”

“Right behind you,” Lucius says. “I’m recording, so only say things you want heard by Space Force.”

“Shit,” I seethe. “Of all the times… Don’t look up my wrap, okay? There’s nothing under it.”

“I’ll censor all such instances,” the drone assures me. “Space Force doesn’t approve of explicit material.”

I make sure to self-censor the next few things that cross my mind. I focus on crawling on. I might be able to turn around in here, but it would be a tight fit.

The tunnel slopes downward so gradually that I don't notice it at first.

The walls pulse around us with a slow rhythm. Every so often a stronger contraction runs through the fleshy passage, like a heartbeat moving through some enormous body. The air is warmer here than in Krix'vorr's chamber, and it carries a strange scent I can't identify. It's organic, like a compost heap filled with fruits.

"Still think it's ventilation?" I ask.

"It certainly appears to be some sort of circulation system," Lucius replies from behind me. "The airflow seems consistent. The temperature is increasing gradually. Keep going."

"I don’t really have a choice."

The tunnel forks ahead. One branch curves upward while the other continues down. Before I can decide, a warm current brushes across my face from the lower passage.

"Feel that?" I ask.

"The airflow is stronger below. If this is ventilation, it probably leads toward a central processing area."

“Is that good?"