CHAPTER TWO

 

 

- Hannah

 

My attention goes back to the hatch over my shoulder. I watch the wheel on the door spin faster, round and round. My mind is slowly starting to pick up speed, just like the hatch turning in front of me.

So, there’s life out here. That is the only viable explanation for what is happening right now. Someone or something is out there and it’s trying to get in here. And now, due to a NASA fail safe that I don’t have the ability to turn off—or contact them to turn off, I’m about to be killed. Protocol Eight Point Two was designed as a last-ditch effort to keep our technology from falling into anyone’s else's hands. I always thought I’d only use it if I crashed on a planet or got knocked off course or whatever. I never imagined I would be alive when it activated or that I would have to watch the countdown screen as the numbers ticked lower and lower to my destruction along with the multi-billion dollar Skylab.

Who fucking knows what tripped it? That’s one thing you definitely learn as you are studying for years to travel into space. You learn what you need to know and prepare for the worst, but you don’t dwell on the negative possibilities. Come on! There’s so much fine print that no one could ever anticipate all the potential possibilities or outcomes. Everything is hypothetical anyway. I just never thought too much about it.

How could anyone know what happens when the hatch to a space station is opened from the outside? Nobody realized it was even fucking possible! “Well, NASA, if anyone can hear me, something or someone is trying to open the hatch from the outside. It’s triggered the damned self-destruct.” They should add that to the warning label on the hatch. Warning: Traveling to space may be hazardous to your health. You may die in a fiery explosion as some unknown entity triggers fucking Protocol Eight Point Two.

Well, if I’m going to die, at least I’ll get to see some aliens first. I can add that to the long list of firsts I’ve accomplished in this lifetime. Except nobody will ever know. Not NASA, not the asshole at university who told me I’d never make it, not my parents who expected perfection…I shove thoughts of my parents and sister aside, packing them tightly into another time box. No dwelling on the what ifs. Stay present with now. It may be inevitable, but I’m not dead yet.

A hissing sound starts as the seal to the door releases and begins to open. How will this work? Will they be wearing space suits? Will they breath air? Will they kill me immediately? Just who are they…questions are still whirling through my head as the door cracks open. On second thought, maybe I should’ve tried to hold it closed?

I’m not immediately pulled into space—that’s a relief. I’m having a hard time thinking beyond the next instant or so. Knowing you’re about to die will do that to a girl.

It swings wide fast and hard and I’m glad I didn’t try to hold it closed after all. My breath catches in my throat as an enormous shadow falls across the room. The opening for the hatch is approximately four feet around but the thing casting the shadow is huge! As it steps through, it has to bend over in half just to get through it. He’s easily seven or more feet tall! A gigantic alien just boarded the Skylab, except it’s not alone. My eyes widen and I press my body against the metal walls as four of them stream in behind the initial intruder.

No, they are all huge. Humanoid too. Two arms, two legs.

It takes a minute for me to realize they aren’t exactly floating even though I still am. They have some kind of boots that enable them to walk in zero gravity. That’s awesome! The one who boarded first comes directly at me and my brain processes that it’s humanoid. From a distance, it might even be passable as human. It has two arms, two legs, a broad expanse of chest, but it’s not quite human.

“Um, hello?” I stupidly hold out my hand. What am I expecting? For it to shake my hand like a neighbor stopping by? Maybe I was wrong about the life support compensating for the open hatch? I think I’m becoming oxygen deprived as I stare at the alien in front of me. It could almost pass for a man. A really big man. He looks vaguely familiar somehow. Of course, that could be a by-product of my brain dying a slow death from oxygen deprivation.

My hand drops slowly as I study him more closely. He definitely looks like a man. He’s tall, and even though he’s wearing clothing, I can see his skin is tanned and pulled taut across muscles that could easily squish me like a bug. His face is clean-shaven but the dark brown hair on his head is woven into an elaborate style that trails down his overly broad back. I wonder how long that took to do? My mind wanders to the sister who I’ll never see again and the many childhood memories I have of doing each other’s hair.

The deep rumble coming out of his mouth makes absolutely no sense to me but it does pull me back to the present. The present where I’m going to die any time now. Smiling absently, and trying to look as non-threatening as possible, I consider my options.

Here I am. The very first person to ever meet an alien race—except for those people that get abducted. But those must be different aliens, right? These guys are hunks compared to the gray-skinned, thin aliens that people have been claiming abduction by for hundreds of years. My innate curiosity wins out. I have to know more.

Pushing off from console area, I slowly float across the few feet between us. It’s hard to process exactly how tall he is because our faces are at the same level as I float towards him. I’m aware my perspective is skewed by multiple factors right now—my fragile human system shutting down, the unadulterated fear of my impending death, and the literal awe of seeing an alien for the first time.

I use both hands to lightly grab his shoulders as he comes into reach. We stare into each others’ eyes as my heart tries to flail out of my chest. I can hear my blood roaring in my ears. He doesn’t appear afraid of me at all, more curious. If I had to judge his expression, I’d say he’s bemused. He’s probably wondering what the hell I am doing but these are the last minutes of my life.

I’ll do what I want, dammit.

He’s still rambling in what I assume to be his language periodically as we stare at each other. His face in general appears flatter than ours, including his nose. But he has full lips and I can see teeth briefly as he speaks. They look white and clean. His eyes are captivating. Green with a red color around the elongated pupil. Almost like a cat. As the red blends into the green, there’s a fiery shade of orange.

When he directs his attention to one of the other aliens behind me, I slowly bring my hand up to his cheek, running my fingertips lightly across his skin. It’s almost fuzzy feeling. Like velvet. My fingers drop lower and I ponder the lack of facial hair. Nothing on his jaw, just more smooth velvet fuzz.

I smile as naughty thoughts run through my head of places where this could really come in handy. No more whisker burn on inappropriate places. He could run his velvety face all over my inner thighs as he licks between my legs. I clench my knees together, surprised by the direction my thoughts have taken. So inappropriate.

As I pull my hand away, I realize he’s been watching me. His nostrils, more horizontal than vertical from a face on view, flare as he appears to be smelling me. Or does he smell something else?

I sniff thoughtfully looking around. His mouth curls into a grin that would almost be panty-dropping if he were human.

His loud, barking voice has all the aliens behind him scrambling for the door. They’re leaving already?

Strong arms wrap around me so quickly, I don’t even see them coming. He moves so fast! He may be big but he’s as smooth as a dancer. It isn’t until we are stepping through the hatch that I manage to turn my head.

A sudden feeling of lightheadedness overtakes me as I realize I’m on an alien ship!