Chapter 3
This seemed to be a habit, waking up in an unfamiliar place. I groggily came out of whatever Corran had done to me, whatever he’d jabbed into me. I stretched, and I was pleasantly surprised I could move freely. They hadn’t chained me up. But instead of the floor, I lay in bed. The only piece of furniture in the room.
I stood up on shaky legs, my head swimming from whatever ran through my body. Looking around the room, I was shocked to see that there was an opening in the wall, unattended.
It felt like a trick. But I was done being stuck in small rooms and needed air and open space to shake this claustrophobic feeling gripping me.
I clung to that thread of hope I’d find a way out of this mess and pressed forward in hurried steps out of the room. Light illuminated my passage along a long hallway, walls made of black like the previous ship I’d been with Corran. But this was different. Loftier and wider, and I had no doubt I was in over my head because this had to be their main vessel they’d used to come to Earth. But why were we hiding in here?
My steps quickened as panic clawed across my chest with the notion that we weren’t hiding in here at all, and I couldn’t… wouldn’t even think about that possibility.
No windows graced the walls, and at the end of the corridor, two doors slid open upon my approach.
I flinched in response, but when my gaze swept inside, I shuddered on the spot, my mouth dropping open.
A long room spread out before me… the room that I had seen when I was first brought on. Now that I was lucid, I could see that it was a Bridge room on a spaceship to be precise. A darkened window stretched over the far wall with two seats facing the window, reminding me of the captain’s chair in science fiction movies. A four seater bench lined the long side of the area, while monitors and numerous controls covered the opposite wall.
Corran stepped out from the shadowy corner, holding some kind of tool that resembled a wrench and looked up to find me. He smiled.
“How are you feeling?” He set the metal tool on a seat and strode toward me. Dressed in black pants and a V-neck shirt with long sleeves, I noted the golden insignia over his heart of two golden circles overlapping… that middle section was black and reminded me of an eclipse.
“What did you inject in me? Where are we?”
A corner of his mouth curled upward as he pushed his glasses to sit on top of his head. His caramel eyes smiled at me with a cheekiness I wasn’t expecting. “A little something to help you breathe outside of The Brig. Our environmental systems are down, and oxygen was only available in the holding room.”
“That’s why you locked me in there?” I raised my voice. “Then why the hell didn’t you just tell me, and why did you jam a needle in my neck?”
“Because you would have panicked.” He remained so calm, still smirking, while I burned up on the inside, tangled in a mix of anger and frustration.
“I did panic! You came at me with a syringe.”
“Oxygen levels were running low and I needed more time to fix up the regulators. Plus it gave me the perfect chance to trial the throat ring.” He studied me like a specimen. “How are you feeling?”
My hand instinctively reached for my neck, half expecting to find a collar. “What are you talking about?”
“It’s a small device that looks like a ring and sit in your throat esophagus. The ring gives you oxygen and eliminates other gases you inhale. Now, you can walk around the ship freely.”
I blinked hard, and my brain stuttered for a while. “Y-you operated on me?”
He took a gulp of his coffee before setting it aside like it tasted bad. “It’s a non intrusive quick implant. Either that or you would have died.”
He reached out and took my hand in his, his face softening, but I pulled free from his grasp. I kept swallowing, convinced I felt the ring in my throat now. My lungs seemed to close up and I couldn’t take enough air into them.
“I don’t want your alien technology inside me.”
His lips pursed. “Come with me.” He marched past me and down the short hallway, then turned right through a set of doors that slid open at his approach.
I stood in the doorway, scanning the white room, the long table and chairs located in the middle, and eyed the panel of buttons on the rear wall. Everything looked pristine and almost too clinical.
“Take a seat,” he commanded.
“No thanks. I don’t want another injection.”
“Sit!” he boomed and crossed the room before jabbing the control panel.
Seconds later, the whole wall seemed to vibrate, and I held my breath, unsure what was going on. But in a heartbeat the bottom half jutted out of the wall and a whole kitchen counter with cabinets and appliances appeared.
Corran pressed a button on the coffee machine and reached for the ground beans.