? ? ?
I’ve never grown comfortable being naked around the aliens. Jesse Franklin frequently saw me naked and claimed to enjoy it, but he was my boyfriend, so it doesn’t count. I’m self--conscious about being too skinny, and I imagine the sluggers judge me for my flaws—the mole in the center of my chest shaped like Abraham Lincoln or the way my collarbone protrudes or my tragically flat ass. Once, while standing in the lunch line waiting for shepherd’s pie, Elle Smith told me I had the flattest ass she’d ever seen. I wasn’t sure how many asses a twelve-year-old girl from Calypso realistically could have been exposed to, but the comment infected me like a cold sore, bursting to the surface from time to time, ensuring I never forgot my place.
Part of me wonders if the sluggers send pervy pics back to their home planet for their alien buddies to mock. Check out this mutant we caught. They call it a teenager. It’s got five arms, but one is tiny and deformed.
It’s not really deformed, I swear.
? ? ?
When the sluggers had finished experimenting on me that night, the slab I was resting on transformed into a chair while I was still on it. During previous abductions, the aliens had locked me in a totally dark room, attempted to drown me, and once pumped a gas into the air that made me laugh until I vomited, but they’d never given me a chair. I was immediately suspicious.
One of the sluggers remained behind after the others disappeared into the shadows. The exam room was the only section of the ship I’d ever seen, and its true shape and size were obscured by the darkness at the edges. The room itself was plain—a gray floor with swirls that gave it the impression of movement and that was illuminated by four or five lights beaming from the shadows. The slab, which had become a chair, was obsidian black.
My limbs tingled, and that was how I realized I could move again. I shook them to work out the pins and needles, but I couldn’t shake the impotence that rattled in my skull, reminding me that the aliens could flay me alive and peel back my muscles to see how I functioned, and there wasn’t a goddamn thing I could do to stop them. As human beings, we’re born believing that we are the apex of creation, that we are invincible, that no problem exists that we cannot solve. But we inevitably die with all our beliefs broken.
My throat was scratchy. Even caged rats are given water bottles and food pellets.
“If you’re testing my patience, I should warn you that I once spent three weeks in a roach-infested RV with my family on the antiquing trip from hell. Twenty-one days of Dad getting lost, Mom losing her temper, and my brother finding any excuse to punch me, all set to the glorious song of Nana’s deviated septum.”
Nothing. No reaction. The slugger beside me waggled its eyestalks, the glassy marbles taking in a 360-degree view. They were like one of those security cameras hidden under a shaded dome; it was impossible to know where they were tracking at any given moment.
“Seriously, it was the worst trip of my life. Every night we all had to lie still and pretend we couldn’t hear Charlie polishing his rifle in the overhead bunk. I’m pretty confident he broke the world record for the most number of times a kid’s masturbated while sharing breathing space with his parents, brother, and grandmother.”
A beam of light shot over my shoulder, projecting a three-dimensional image of Earth in the air a few feet in front of me. I turned to find the source, but the slugger sprouted an appendage and slapped me in the neck.
“I really hope that was an arm,” I said, rubbing the fresh welt.
The picture of the planet was meticulously detailed. Feathery clouds drifted across the surface as the image rotated leisurely. Tight clusters of defiant lights sparkled from every city, as bright as any star. A few moments later, a smooth pillar approximately one meter tall rose from the floor beside the image of the earth. Atop it was a bright red button.
“Do you want me to press it?” The aliens had never given me the impression that they understood anything I said or did, but I figured they wouldn’t have presented me with a big shiny button if they hadn’t intended for me to press it.
The moment I stood, electricity surged up my feet and into my body. I collapsed to the floor, twitching. A strangled squeal escaped my throat. The slugger didn’t offer to help me, despite its ability to grow arms at will, and I waited for the spasms to recede before climbing back into the chair. “Fine, I won’t touch the button.”
The projection of the earth exploded, showering me with sparks and light. I threw up my arm to protect my face, but I felt no pain. When I opened my eyes, the image was restored.