Stolen and Seduced - Christine Pope Page 0,347

to know I mean business. My mate is out there. Alone, and maybe frightened. From my research I know that humans are weak, defenceless. She must not come to harm. Our race depends on her.

“The K’VaRconn Federation ship is in the Gamma quadrant, we will not reach it for at least one hour,” the drone replies.

“Fuck!” I hiss between my teeth.

Orla

I’m having a hallucination. There really is no other explanation for this nightmare. It grunts at me and then smiles, its mouth wide and thin. I’m standing in a room that’s seems to be made entirely of steel. The lights are so bright in the room that my eyes hurt from blinking repeatedly. There is one massive window taking up the whole side of one wall, but everything outside is dark with stars and so many moons. What is this place? We’re seem to be moving, seamlessly and silently through the darkness. That can’t be right?

“Are we moving?” I ask them. No reply.

Oh, did I mention my new friends? There are four of them, like octopuses but different. Octopuses? Octopi? Whatever! There are four of them, pink, made of a jelly-like substance and almost transparent. Each of them has eight tentacles of varying lengths, huge black eyes and stand about four feet high. I know this because I’ve been openly gaping at them for about an hour. They are identical, holding electronic tablets and scanning me while smiling nervously at each other. Wait! How do I know they’re nervous? I have not one fucking single clue. I appear to be either drunk, on drugs, dead or in spaceship. Shaking my head, I rub my hands up and down my face.

“It rubs its frontal expression panel,” one squeals in delight. Their voices are high pitched and make me nauseous. I touch one finger to my ear and feel a button-like device wedged in deep. One for them bounces up and down and claps two tentacles together.

“Its brain is working. See! Look at the screen, its brain is small like a Kiland’on,” it says, squealing again. They all giggle in unison before peering at their screens. “Like a Kiland’on,” it repeats. More squealing.

“What’s in my ear?” I ask, rubbing my eyebrow.

They look at each other oohing and ahhing when I speak.

“What is a Kiland’on? Why don’t you have legs? Oh yeah, you’re Octopus? Am I dead? If this is the afterlife? If it is, we’ve got this so wrong! My friend Jeremy had a three-hour argument with a woman about black Jesus. He is going to lose his shit when I tell him.”

One octopus moves closer, his big cute black eyes blinking at me. He hits a tentacle against my ear. “It is a universal translating device, silly human female. That’s how you know how to decipher our complex language. You have a small brain. Please listen carefully. You…”

“Kiland’on,” one of them whispers. More squeals.

I’m very obviously on drugs then. Who slipped me something? And where? There’s no way anyone in our local pub O’Neil’s slipped me anything. Wait, what kind of drugs would me feel…It’s all so foggy. The cliffs, a green light in the water and then flying. My arm stings, and I flinch when I look down and see a dark pink tentacle pressing a device against my arm.

“Ouch. Jesus! What did you do that for? Is that a probe? Are you fucking probing me?” My excessive use of bad language is heightened by stress. I would say I’m at motherfucking 100, in terms of stress levels right now. If I’m dead would I feel pain? The octopus shakes its head.

“I am merely checking your fertility. I will now make an introduction to you. You are a living female. I am Marvoin of the clan K’VaRconn,” it squeaks.

I squint and stare at its mouth hole as it moves. “Human female. Human female! Look and listen!” It taps a tentacle against my head, and I jump in response. “Do not be alarmed, human female. You have been gloriously chosen by the members of the K’VaRconn clan to offer up your…”

It glances at the its electronic device.

“Womb and vagina for the express purposes…”

“Now, wait just a damn minute!” I exclaim, while trying to move forward on the floor. It’s impossible, my feet remain glued and immovable. Stuck in some way. As though I’m paralysed from the waist down. I pull myself up to my full height of five feet ten and a half inches before pulling down my raising t-shirt. The