“Just the sound of the ship flying overhead,” Harlow says. Her arms are crossed over her chest and it’s clear she’s worried.
“Again?” I look at Aehako with concern. “I think the aliens know we’re here.”
He rubs his mouth and considers. “What do their feet look like?”
That’s a weird question. “Their feet?”
“Haeden and I saw tracks in the snow on the way here.”
I gasp. “You didn’t say anything!”
“There was no sense in worrying you when you are already beside yourself with fear.” He touches my cheek, and my anger fades. “The tracks were unfamiliar to us.” He spreads his fingers as if they’re prongs. “Three large, spiky toes. Does that match your aliens?”
I shake my head, trying to remember. The orangey aliens with the pebbled skin had two toes, and the little green men had small, wispy feet. “So now we have something else to worry about?”
“One thing at a time,” Aehako tells me. “We should find Haeden.”
As we head out of the mechanics bay, I turn to Harlow. “You think there are still guns on the ship?”
She gives me a shocked look. “Wasn’t this a pleasure cruiser?”
“Surely even those would have some sort of defense system? We need guns if we want them to listen to us.” Now that’s a phrase I never thought I’d say.
Harlow looks worried at my suggestion. “I don’t know how to shoot a regular gun, much less an alien one.”
“Yeah, but the aliens don’t know that,” I tell her. If it comes down to it, we might have to bluff our way out of things. “If we look like we’re armed and dangerous, then maybe they’ll use a bit of caution when approaching us.”
She nods, though she doesn’t look happy. I don’t blame her. I’m not thrilled about it either, but we’re low on options. All I know is that I’m not going back with them. Period. I rub my sore ear, thinking of my memories from being a captive on the ship. Harlow doesn’t have the same memories I do. Of the constant terror. The rapes. Of being treated like you’re less than an animal. That you don’t matter.
Liz had joked that her dad had treated his farm animals better than we’d been treated, and she wasn’t wrong. To them, we were nothing more than cargo.
Here, on Not-Hoth, I matter. To Aehako and the others, I matter.
So I clear my throat. “Computer, show me what functioning weapons are still on board this ship.”
? ? ?
Two hours later, I’m bossing everyone around and trying to get things done. Haeden’s been no help, so I have him sitting on the bridge, in charge of the single defense gun that the still-somewhat-functioning computer has. He has a bright red button he can push if things go to hell that will （hopefully） activate the single gun, provided it hasn’t rusted over after all this time and the harsh weather. There are a handful of alien guns from the ship’s security, but only one has any charge left. Harlow and I debate over who’s going to handle it, but I win the argument.
I’m going to be the negotiator in charge, because I’m determined that things are going to work out.
And if they don’t, I want Harlow, Aehako, and Haeden to get away.
The gun doesn’t have a trigger like regular human guns. It’s some sort of laser cannon that has a control panel that’s voice activated and reveals – no joke – a button. And here I thought a trigger was déclassé. I’d feel better with one.
“What’s the status of the alien ship?” I ask the computer as I practice aiming my laser cannon. “Is it still in the atmosphere?”
“Affirmative,” the computer tells me. “Would you like a visual?”
“Yes, please.”
The room’s screen lights up and shows me the mountains in the distance, the ones that look like purple ice. Hovering just over the peak of one is the flat disk of the alien’s ship, a black smudge on the gray skies. “Has it moved any in the last six hours?”
“Negative.”
The sight of it is making me antsy. “Can we call it toward us somehow? I don’t want it getting back to the others.”
“I can relay a communication signal. Would you like to do so?”
“Not just yet,” I tell it quickly, then look at Harlow. There’s a few things I have to get done before we can proceed with our plan. “Can you do me a favor?”
The redhead turns toward me, curious. “What’s up?”