The Alien Library

The Alien Library

By Maureen O. Betita

isbn 10: 1-939914-48-5

isbn 13: 978-1-939914-48-4

Copyright © 2014 Maureen O. Betita.

All rights reserved.

www.maureenobetita.com

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Cover design by Maureen O. Betita

License Notes

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the author. This is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents and dialogues in this book are of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real.

Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is completely coincidental.

Waking up in a room full of naked people, recently abducted by aliens, wasn’t on her list of life accomplishments. The titles she’d been shelving the night of the abduction flew through her memory:
100 Places to See Before You Die, The Ultimate Bucket List, 100 Things to Do Before You Die…
Cam shook her head, leaning on the back of the man behind her. He’d woken up about the same time she had, but appeared stoned. His erection drew the interest of a nearby woman who slid nearer to join him. Even now, she could feel them rocking. She held to his partner’s heels, trying to not be noticed. All around her, people woke up and started touching.

“Where am I? Who are you people?” a voice shouted into the vast room.

Another voice rose in protest. Cameron looked up and spied something odd. No,
someone
odd, pulling the shouting man to his feet to be led away by three others. Cam opened her mouth, then quickly shut it, dropping her eyes. Her former husband always said she had a talent for disappearing. Right now, that ability came in handy. After realizing those doing the leading away weren’t human, she definitely didn’t want to be noticed.

In the next hour, some ten people were led away. Most complained, several tried striking at the odd figures pulling them away. If they shouted or screamed, gags were used. She didn’t see any violence, it was all done gently. That tended to bother her even more. What the hell was going on?

No one did anything. The rest of the people in the room didn’t seem to care. They sat, or lay on the floor. Some slept, a great many touched and caressed.

It was the most frightening thing Cameron had ever seen. She curled up on the floor and tried to figure out why she was there. Where she was…even
who
she was. And most especially, who were the odd-looking beings watching over them.

They were tall, very tall, and pale. Where the humans in the room were predominantly white with a few blacks and Mexicans, these things were tinted green. Their joints bent backward and forward. The proportions differed from human. She saw three fingers, took note of how long and thin their torsos were and who knew how many toes. Working in a bookstore gave her some advantage. She’d begun her career managing the science fiction section, which merged into the speculative non-fiction shelves. She’d seen enough illustrations of what non-humans might look like to realize these were aliens.

Of some sort.

Cameron didn’t consider herself stupid. Fear at this point was a perfectly rational reaction. The ones taken away had tried to fight or run. She did neither. She didn’t know why they were removing people, but she felt safer in the crowd. She would stay with the the rest. One of the aliens walked close by and she inhaled. She remembered the same scent in the fog. Her kidnapper was one of these aliens.

I can deal with this
.
I’ll figure it out. I’ll survive. I’ll blend.

For nearly three months, she outmaneuvered the Kharmon. She listened to the talks, given by one of them. She smiled with the rest, giggled and acted like the remaining humans. She pretended to be stoned, the only way she could define how the rest behaved. They didn’t converse, none of them. They made obvious observations, took pleasure from small praise and did as they were told. At night, they clung together, happily moving from partner to partner. She slid around the periphery, touching when one of the Kharmon came close, but easing the attentions of the men and woman away once no one watched.

She didn’t know if they called themselves Kharmon; she heard that word most often, so she used it. They spoke English, for the most part, though not always. She assumed the strange conversations she occasionally heard were in Kharmonese, for lack of a better word. She couldn’t come close to sounding it out. Every four weeks or so, up to thirty-six humans were taken away. Each time, she managed to avoid the selection process.

Until the third sorting. They’d numbered nearly a hundred in the beginning. Now there were only thirty. She lingered near the feeding troughs, knowing her options were disappearing. She didn’t like to call them troughs, but it fit. Long indented tables filled periodically with food. It was plain fare: bread, cheeses, raw vegetables and fruit. The Kharmon didn't watch them while they ate.

As the last group heard the summoning bell and rose without worry to line up in the other room, Cameron made her move, slipping out a side door and into a maze of hallways, small rooms and closets. For three days, she wandered the empty halls, eavesdropped on the aliens, stole food from unattended meals and caught quick naps in dark corners.

She found a door to the outside on the third day. She wandered along a path, surrounded by growing shrubs and long stretches of what looked like grass. A garden? The plants weren’t familiar. It depressed her to realize how much she missed what she’d once taken for granted. No one else wandered in the greenery, it might prove a good place to hide.

“How beautiful,” she softly murmured. “Oh!” She cupped a golden yellow blossom, and sighed. It made her think of poppies.

“It is beautiful,” a kind voice spoke from behind her. “Don’t…!”

She’d run. Without thinking about it, she darted away. Fear of being sorted drove her to dart away. Unfortunately, she ran directly into a group of Kharmon.

A hard looking alien grabbed her left arm tightly and then jerked upward. “What is this?” The voice dripped cruelty, hard and full of scorn. He lifted her until she cried out, her feet leaving the grass. “You allow them to wander the gardens? Brother?”

“Set her down, Teemin.” That sounded like the one who’d found her. The voice carried the same soft tone. “My garden, my human. Let her go.”

She tried to get away, reaching up to peel those incredibly strong fingers away. Her mouth opened and she drew a breath.

“I said let her go.”

Up until the moment he hit her, she’d seen him as the reasonable one. Then his blow knocked the air from her. She fell, gasping for breath. The meal she’d swiped less than an hour earlier spewed forth, spattering her tormentor’s feet.

He grimaced. “Your human. The one who got away. Tendar, you keep a poor watch.”

“I saved this one for my personal attention.” Tendar stepped over her, clapping his hands. Two other Kharmon hurried forward. “See her cleaned up and taken to my quarters.” He hurried away, the others followed.

Cameron didn’t fight as she was helped to her stand, trying to breath took all her concentration. His strike had been powerful.

The two others spoke over her head. “How did she slip through?”

“She was lucky. Some do have an ability to blend into the background,” the other answered. “The garden! Hell. It will have to be replanted.”

Cameron slowly stood up. Her throat felt raw, but she forced the words out anyway, “Why?”

“She spoke!” The first one let her arm go and stepped in front, studying her face. “You spoke.”

“Yes, I spoke.” So much for playing stupid. She looked up and sighed. “Why replant the garden?”

“A thinker. Tendar will be pleased.” The male in front of her smiled. “Why did you hide?”

Cameron took a step backward at that smile. His lips all but disappeared. Even teeth, so white they were almost blue, gleamed at her and his eyes widened. She didn’t feel threatened, but that smile still surprised her.

“Uh…because it seemed prudent.” In for a penny, in for a pound. “What does Kharmon mean?”

He shook his head, the smile disappearing. “It will all be explained later.”

She sighed and followed them. For three months, she’d been naked and become accustomed to it, but suddenly, she felt modest. She crossed her arms and bowed her head, letting her long hair hide her face. They took her to a bathroom and let her clean up. Moreover, for the first time, she was offered clothing. A fairly heavy tunic, an off-white color and very soft. It felt good against her skin.

Once dressed, they escorted her to the kitchen where she met the cook, and was offered the first full meal since her escape. She sat at a table, looking at the female Kharmon, bustling about the stove.

“Thank you, this is very good,” she finally spoke. “I was hungry.”

“You are welcome.” The Kharmon lifted a heavy pot and set it away from the heat. “Try this…” She spooned up a ladle of steamy liquid, filled a bowl and handed it to Cameron. “What are you called?”

“Cameron Diebold.” She took the bowl and sniffed at it. “Spicy…” Taking the spoon, she gingerly sampled the soup. She took a second sample and sighed, “Oh. This is wonderful.”

“I like to surprise the kharmonian with items they once knew.” She nodded. “Camerondielbold… I will call you Cam.”

“All right. Diebold is my maiden name, the name of my parents. Cam is short for Cameron.” She finished the bowl. “The Kharmonian is what you call humans?”

The cook paused. “It suffices. Though it’s no longer accurate.”

Cameron sensed the lack of truth but didn’t push it. She’d been treated differently than she’d expected. She’d be polite and patient. The paramount lesson during the indoctrination lectures was to be polite, deferential and submissive. Cameron could be polite and she’d be patient. They’d find she wasn’t prone to submission.

*****

For nearly a week, Cameron worked in the kitchen alongside Pindari. The cook answered some questions, managing to ask a fair amount at the same time. Cam didn’t realize how much she missed simple conversation and grew comfortable with Pindari. Cam chopped vegetables, stirred pots, fetched items and made herself useful. They gave her a small room, just off the kitchen.

She saw other humans, usually taking direction and following orders. She watched, but never observed anyone being hurt or abused. The bruises on her arm, from the one who’d grabbed her in the garden, slowly faded as the muscles of her belly let go of their outrage for being struck. Cam didn’t ask Pindari about the garden.

One morning, she found the kitchen empty. It seemed odd, but then she recalled Pindari saying she had an errand to run. Cam explored. She knew Pindari substituted a great deal on the recipes she followed. They were human for the most part, but evidently, the supplies were limited. She found a stash of spices, most familiar. Eating a slice of bread, toasted and coated with a jelly of some sort, Cam kept exploring and she found the cookbooks.

Oh! An original Betty Crocker!

She gasped and carefully pulled the old book from the cabinet. The source of many childhood memories, she flipped through it, remembering how she’d sit with her mother and pick out something to cook. She sighed and gingerly turned the pages. There were notations here and there. Then Cam found a long list of substitute items. The Earth item on one side and next to it, one she didn’t know. But she figured out what the list was as she recognized a few of the items.

The book made her aware of how far away Earth must be. With a deep sigh, she closed it and prepared to return it to the cabinet when Pindari spoke from the shadowed doorway, “You can read.”

“Oh!” Cam nearly dropped the book. “Damn, you move quietly.” She set a hand at her heart after making sure the book set securely on the shelf. “Yes, I can read. And write. I told you I worked in a bookstore, before…”

Pindari entered the kitchen, looking pleased. “True, but for all I knew, you simply fetched and carried. You said you were a manager, managed people?”

“Sure, but…” Cam shook her head. “…it would be odd to work in a bookstore and not be able to read.”

“True, but few retain the skill once they are here,” Pindari replied. It was the first time the apparent dumbing down of the humans was mentioned. Cam took advantage.

“I noticed. Why?” She’d never been one for direct questions, but she needed to understand. “And I apologize if I overstepped my bounds, looking at your cookbooks.”

“Not at all. You’ll have to tell me what is your favorite,” Pindari sidestepped the first question. “You’re to dine with Tendar tonight. I’ll excuse you early so that you can clean up and prepare yourself.”

“Tendar? He’s the head of this house. right?” Cam swallowed her nervousness. “Why? What does he want with me? I thought he’d forgotten I existed.” She knew the name, remembering how he struck her in the garden.

“Not likely. It’s been a busy week for him, with family visiting. But they’ve all gone now and he can return to what interests him.” Pindari smiled slightly and slid into the staging area of the kitchen. “What would you like for dinner?”

Cam took a step back. “It’s his house. What does he want?”

“For you to have what you want.” Pindari shook her head. “Why are you backing away?”

“I don’t want to meet him.” Cam whispered. “He…he hit me…”

“I heard. I’m sure there is an explanation, he isn’t a violent male. Unlike his brother.” The cook scowled.

Cam backed away, turned and shivered.

Pindari sighed. “I would like to attempt the tamale you mentioned your mother made.” She began to name off the supplies needed. Cameron slowly unwound from the tense pose, arms tight and back hunched, to assist.

Sometime later, Pindari looked up and suggested that Cameron return to her room to clean up. Cam froze, and then reluctantly did as she’d been told. The cook called out, “I will accompany you, Cameron.”