Page 75 of Stripped By the Alien

I frown. Small thunderstorms?

“Your Majesty,” Krix’vorr begins, “I was holding hands with the alien because I was worried she might faint or lose her bearings or worse when suddenly confronted with Your magnificent Royal Nest. Surely she has never seen anything like it. Indeed I found her walking off and putting herself in lethal danger aboard my ship. I wanted no such near-disaster in this holy place.”

I decide to stay quiet until asked about something. And I suppose that’s as good an explanation as possible.

“I brought this alien to Your Majesty,” he goes on, his deep voice resonant in the chamber, “to show her as evidence of a possible target for Harvest. I discovered her on a patrol, and when Your Majesty commanded me to your Royal Presence, I decided to not keep her locked up in my ship, but to display her in Your chamber. If her tale is true, and her planet is indeed ravaged by war, then at the very least she is an amusing curiosity. See how defenseless she is! Shield-less and soft all over. I had to encase her in that protective tape to help her stay in one piece.”

Everyone stares at me like a zoo exhibit, and two of the locusts lean their heads together and whisper.

I tug at the lower side of my tape, worried that I’m showing too much skin. But there’s not much I can do now.

“But we all know,” Krix’vorr continues, “that when a new sentient alien is captured, it often misrepresents its world so as to make it sound less attractive for our Harvest. I suppose the same could be the case here, although sending a female scout into space would seem an act of desperation that tends to lend credibility to her tale.”

Yeah, that was always a danger with my approach – it’s the obvious thing to say, and these guys are bound to have heard varieties of “my planet is too poor to plunder” many times before. He may have just saved me from disaster.

“It is said you kept the alien in your personal chamber,” the queen creaks. “Are you about to tell me that it was to keep her safe?”

“Yes, Your Majesty!” Krix’vorr says loudly. “My ship, the famous Beast, is jealous of any female aboard and tries to kill them. She made two attempts at Nora’s life. But I would not have the alien die before I was done interrogating her.”

The important-looking locust beside the Queen leans in and whispers something to her. But my translation flower picks it up: “The Beast is indeed famous for its tendency to hate females, Majesty. Your Majesty excepted, of course. Nobody could hate you. Except your enemies–”

The Queen raises a pale, flabby limb and pushes him roughly away. “Silence.”

A tall, strong-looking locust takes a step forwards. “Chief Harrower Krix’vorr! Her Majesty asked you a question that you have tried to avoid answering! Now answer it.”

“I have avoided no question, Inquisitor!” Krix’vorr rumbles with an undertone of danger. “Are you not well-versed in how conversations are carried out in the Royal Chamber? Her Majesty will often ask questions that are not meant to be answered, only heard! The question about the small thunderstorms was such a question. You are embarrassing us all, sir!”

“Every question Her Majesty asks is to be answered,” the Inquisitor says, not shaken. “She asked if you found yourself in the middle of small thunderstorms. Can you understand what she’s really asking you?”

“You will find that even though the Beast is large, even my ship has no thunderstorms inside it,” Krix’vorr replies calmly. “Except when an underling displeases me and makes me furious. But when that happens, the thunderstorm is not small. Indeed, there are sometimes casualties.”

There’s a weird, rhythmic sound like water drops dripping onto a hot plate. It takes me a second to realize that it’s the Queen chuckling.

“Our Chief Harrower is so used to navigating minefields in space that he can’t be pinned down by a newly minted Inquisitor,” she says. “Very well, Krix’vorr. Your non-answer is an answer in itself. Nora, how long ago was this war of which you speak?”

The one thing I was hoping to avoid was giving more details. It means more things to remember and to somehow tell Sophia. And one obviously wrong detail could give the game away. But I’m committed now. “It was a long war. It never really ended. But they ran out of the worst weapons three years ago.”

The translation creature seems to struggle with the concept of a ‘year’, but I’m not going to help with that. Vagueness is my friend now.

“A year is a long time?” the Queen asks. “Aliens always have these strange ways of measuring.”

“It is a long time,” I reply, aiming for vagueness. “But not very long.”

“Long,” the queen repeats, making it sound ridiculous. “But not very long. Similar to our longcycle, then.” She moves as if uncomfortable. Servant creatures scurry to assist. “Your planet had food and such for a while, then, I assume. And what survived were the space stations and such? It seems to me as if those would be the first to be destroyed. But of course, I never was in space myself. I was only ever here, in the Nest, only hearing about these things. And thinking, Nora. I have done a lot of thinking. Can you guess what I’m thinking now?”

“I can’t guess,” I state carefully. “I think your mind is too large and too sharp. But if I have permission to speak, I will now carry out my mission.” I have to play this to the end, just for credibility.

I drop to my knees and reach both hands out towards the queen. “Your Majesty. My world and my people are dying. Every day our numbers dwindle. I am the last hope. Please, Your Mighty Majesty. Help us! Give us food and clean water and any other things you can spare. We are desperate and we will soon be gone from the universe entirely if we are not helped. On behalf of my people, I beg you: Help us!”

The chamber goes completely quiet, and I wonder if I didn’t just stun them all.

Now, even the servants stare. Antennae wave this way and that, several of the locusts exchange puzzled glances and the important-looking one frowns as if trying to work something out.

“She wants our resources?” someone half whispers. “She’s demanding tribute? From us?”

The Queen freezes, staring at me with her one good eye.

I was already nervous, but now my heart is pounding in my ears. This may have been a step too far. I may have accidentally insulted them. I want to explain, but I can’t think of anything to say that wouldn’t make this worse.