There is shouting and the zing of lasers beyond the wall. The Mantis creatures have a very distinct clicking communication. The shouting sounds like human language. My heart slams. Could Earth have sent someone to save us?
Our spaceflight has improved in the last few decades, but our technology is nothing like these aliens’. It takes a ridiculous amount of power and planning to get humans into space. Even if there was a shuttle from the International Space Station, I doubt they could take on the Mantises. Nothing short of a nuke can take them down, I imagine. And that would definitely mean the end of us.
The shouting grows louder, and I’m positive that it’s human language. Not just human language but English. How is this happening? We don’t have the capability to fight these monsters.
Pounding echoes through the cell. I look over at Bethany. She raises an eyebrow. I turn my attention to the rest of the girls. Even Bobby seems surprised.
There is a loud swish as the wall pulls back like a sliding door. Standing in the brightness of the alien light are several human men. When I say human, it’s on the loosest of terms. They look human in all respects. Two arms, two legs, two eyes. A mouth. And all the general anatomical parts that make up a human. But these men are bigger, taller, more muscled, and far more handsome than any human man I’ve ever seen. Even movie stars and pro football players pale in comparison. There is something about them that almost glows with strength and purpose. They are wearing skintight jumpsuit uniforms that leave little to the imagination. The bulges between their legs are as impressive as the bulges of their biceps. Maybe even more so.
I catch the gaze of their leader, the tallest and best-looking of the bunch. Our eyes lock for a beat before the men pour into the cell and start helping us to our feet. Everyone is asking a million questions.
“We will explain everything in due time,” the leader says, holding my arm. “But right now, we need to get you to safety.”
“Are we going home?” Sophia wails.
“All will be explained. Now come.”
The massive men lead us down the hall of the spaceship. There is a crash, as if something has exploded. The ship lurches and groans. We all stumble against the far wall. The girls scream. The men catch us with their bodies as we fall. I land against the leader. I come up to his chest. As our bodies press together and I look up into his eyes, I’m dumbstruck by how beautiful he is, how his eyes have a strange and hypnotic glow to them, and how my hands feel pressed against his hard, muscled chest.
The men are strong and dexterous and are able to walk along the tilting hallway, guiding the less sure-footed females behind them. As the leader, which I assume is the captain of this mysterious crew, pulls me farther down the concourse, I estimate he is between six and a half feet and seven feet tall. He’s built like a pro athlete. Not that I know a lot about athletics, but I think he looks like a cross between a swimmer and a football player. His muscles are well defined, and he is clearly very strong, but he is also lithe and agile in his movements.
His touch sends a thrill through me. Maybe it’s because a few minutes ago I was terrified for my life. Maybe it’s my excitement at the prospect of not being eaten by bugs. But whatever it is, this man envelops me in a flood of warmth that I haven’t felt in so long, I almost thought it was gone.
We turn at the end of the hall along the curving corridor. At the end, there is another opening, which I assume is some kind of exit hatch or air lock—my science fiction knowledge coming to play to make sense of my environment.
The men lead us through the hatch into an air lock. Another ship, I assume, is docked and locked on the Mantis craft. We hurry through the connecting hatch and board a second ship.
“What about the others?” Bobby asks. “There are a lot more girls on this ship.”
Clattering and chirping echo down the hall. Laser fire zings past the opening in the exit hatch. One of the men closes the adjoining door. My heart races. I am terrified for the other girls, but I’m also terrified for myself. I’m not ready to die, and I’m a lot less ready to be eaten alive.
“We need to go back!” Bobby demands. I am surprised to hear her so passionate about the welfare of others. Perhaps there is a limit to her nihilism after all.
“We are done here,” the captain says. He looks down at me. “You are all I need.”
“Need for what?” Bobby demands.
“All your questions will be answered in due time,” the captain says again, this time more sternly.
The praying mantis beings are collecting at the hatch. I can see their beady eyes through the porthole. My heart races with dread at the memory of Mrs. Henderson’s body, flung like a rag doll through the night air.
The captain speaks as if talking to a disembodied ghost. “Detach ship.”
The vessel we have now boarded is smoother, sleeker, and brighter than the last. The Mantis ship was black and bulbous. It reminded me of an insect hive—if the insects were capable of interstellar travel and had a taste for human flesh. The new arrivals’ vessel is white and chrome with clean lines and various-colored florescent lights leading down different hallways. It looks like what would happen if Steve Jobs designed a spaceship.
The craft shudders. The girls gasp, and the men holding us keep us from falling. We’ve detached from the Mantis ship. Bobby is still demanding to know what the men’s intention for us is, why they didn’t rescue the others, and where they are taking us. They don’t answer. The captain simply says, “Come,” and leads us down the hallway.
We walk down a long corridor as the ship seems to start moving. We are at zero gravity in space, but I can still feel the centrifugal force of the vessel picking up speed from a standstill.
The captain taps a keypad on the wall, and a door slides open, recessing into the wall. Beyond is a comfortable-looking room with fairly standard furniture. It isn’t what I expected to find on an alien spacecraft. While it has a kind of ultramodern flair to it, it is still distinctly human.
Everything is in white, chrome, and blond wood tones with florescent pink, purple, and blue interspersed. It has that same minimalist smooth design as the exterior corridor. Its appearance suggests what would happen if Apple and Scandinavian modern had a baby. There are tables, couches, chairs, even beds with blankets.
“You will be comfortable here. You may replicate food with the replicator. Simply press this button and tell it what you want,” the captain says, showing us how to use the stainless-steel box that sits on a white counter at the edge of the large room.
The men head for the door. The captain lets go of my arm, and part of me wishes he would hold on to me forever. I know it’s insane. I have no idea what the intentions of these men even are. They might want to do horrible things to us just like our last captors. But as the captain glances back at me one last time before closing the door, I know that can’t possibly be true.
Bobby rushes to the closed door and slams her fist against the panel. “Let us out!” she yells.
“Just calm down, Bobby,” Madeline demands. “They’ve saved us from a fate worse than death. The least we can do is to have some patience.”
“Out of the frying pan and into the fire,” Bobby says, turning back to the rest of us.
“They seem much nicer than the last aliens,” Sophia says.