“Ok, ok. Calm down. I’ll come with you. Let’s not do anything stupid now hey?”
“Walk. Do not speak.”
“I can see you don’t really know me, speaking is kind of, well my thing. Born chatterbox me, like to proclaim my whereabouts,” Michaels voice began to raise, “loud and clear so people can see me.”
“Stop,” the alien said. “I will shoot.” She stepped behind Michael and he felt an uncomfortable prodding in his back, of rounded metal pressing into his jacket. He felt a thump as the alien hit is back, signalling him to start walking.
“No need to manhandle me, not very polite is it?”
“Shut up.”
Michael began to walk, moving as slowly as he dared. Council troopers patrolled the area, they patrolled every area. All it would take is one of them to see him and his captor. There was a prodding in his back, the gun being tapped against him. He got the message and began to walk quicker.
“Guide Michael, where are you going?” The words were clear, translated from a chest-mounted unit. It was the blue-skinned alien, the one who had cut the trip short with his constant toilet requests. “The tour is not over is it?”
“Oh uh,” Michael said. His eyes darted back towards the woman behind him. She glared, her multiple eyes narrowing together. “The tour is over. Very sorry, I need to speak with my… supervisor here. I do apologise. If you’re unhappy you can get a full refund from the desk where you bought the ticket.”
“That is a shame. I was hoping to learn more about the holy lands and their history. It is fascinating. I would never have thought that it would be so primitive. Truly the Rhythm continues to confound me,” the blue alien said, rubbing its chin.
“Well, thanks for your patronage anyway. Tell you what, why don’t you hand in the translator to me, I’ll sort out putting it back on the bus, wouldn’t want you to be any more put out.” Michael stepped away from his kidnapper. He didn’t need to turn around to feel her rage, to see the gun pointed at him. He unclipped the small box from the alien’s shirt and stepped backwards, taking care to keep the alien woman’s weapon hidden. He had no idea how one of the aliens would react to a human being threatened. The blue skin alien gave a thumbs up overenthusiastically, a gesture copied no doubt from the pilgrimage guides every visitor was handed.
Michael spun on his heel to face the alien woman. Her face was filled with rage, her scowl crossing any racial barrier. “Stop. Do as I say. I will shoot.” Her words were still slow, deliberate, sounding out noises that her language simply didn’t have.
“Calm yourself,” Michael said. He flicked his wrist, holding out the translator towards her. The object was one of the few precious pieces of alien technology that had been bestowed upon humanity. It was a simple rectangle, one half a speaker and microphone, the other a tiny touchscreen to change the settings. On the back was a large plastic clamp not unlike a crocodile clip. “May I?” The alien woman nodded, and he clipped it to her jacket, feeling the pistol press into his stomach as he stepped forward. “Better?”
“Oh, yes. This is much better. That’s enough playing around. Get moving.” She waved with the gun, gesturing which way she wanted to go.
“Now we understand each other, you want to explain what’s going on? Who are you.”
“Aileena.”
“And that is?”
“My name idiot. Aileena.” The translator was good, the tone changing to match the exasperation in her voice.
“Well, nice to meet you Aileena I’m Mic—”
“Michael, yes I know. We’ve been watching you for a few weeks now.”
“I gathered as much from the photograph. I’m flattered, but I don’t know what you want from me? I’m just a tour guide. Bit of an average joe really. Nothing worth stealing I can assure you that. This jacket isn’t even mine,” Michael said. He adjusted the brilliant white garment subconsciously.
“Take this left. Look, I don’t really care, this is just a job for me. I got hired to get you, so I got you. As long as I get paid, I couldn’t really give a shit, even if you are somehow the Knower.”
“The Knower? What the hell does that even mean? Level with me Aileena, how much shit am I in here? I want to get my affairs in order, maybe finish my will or—”
“By the Rhythm do you ever shut up? I had a mark once from the chattering monks of Kil’tul and he talked less than you. And he had a vow of non-silence. Just go where I say and do what you’re told, and everything will be fine. I won’t hurt you. Unless you do something stupid.”
“And what happens if I do something stupid?” Michael asked looking over his shoulder. Aileena’s face told him everything he wanted to know. “Right, right. So, what are you a bounty hunter or something like that?”
“Something like that. Take a right.”
“My right or your right?”
“We’re facing the same way. Rhythm help me I might just shoot you myself and let the troopers take me. That might be better than this. Stop here.” Aileena grabbed the collar of his jacket, causing Michael to stumble slightly before stopping. They were next to a large lorry, an advert for the supermarket it belonged to emblazoned across the side. “Get in.”
“Passenger seat or you want me to drive?”
“The back idiot. The back.”
The lorry shook, rattling Michael’s bones. He was sat with his back against the metal wall, the cold of it creeping through his jacket. Aileena sat opposite at the door to the trailer, weapon resting in her lap, hand wrapped around the grip. She was staring at Michael, almost willing him to make a move, her annoyance at him a palpable aura. It had always been the way for all of his life. Michael had always annoyed, talking incessantly with a pathological need to layer his speech thick with sarcasm.
He had no idea how long they had been in the lorry. Aileena had stripped Michael of his phone and watch, throwing them out the back as the lorry had pulled away. He had no idea who was driving, though he would have put good money on them being as armed as the woman currently watching him.
“So, when you first approached me, you said I was in danger. From you?”
“Shut up, we’re here,” Aileena said.
“We are? How do you know that? Some crazy alien ability?”
“No,” Aileena replied. Her sigh wasn’t translated, it didn’t need to be, the frustration pouring out of her. “The truck stopped.”
“Oh right.” Michael stared at his shoes, suddenly aware he sounded like a bigoted idiot. Light poured into the dingy trailer as the doors opened.
“Come on, get up,” Aileena said as she stormed over and gripped him by the arm. She pulled Michael to his feet and dragged him towards the opening doors. “Time to make you someone else’s problem.
Michael nearly tripped as Aileena pushed him from the back of the lorry. The drop was further than he had been expecting and it took a moment for Michael to find his feet. Finally balanced he looked around, taking in his surroundings. He was in what appeared to be a large field. Several sets of floodlights cast everything in a strong light, making his jacket look even more radiant than it usually did. It took him a moment to realise that he was on a football pitch and that the lights were blocking out the night sky.
He turned trying to memorise everything he could. He still had this idea of troopers storming in to save him, to free him from his kidnappers and whisk him away to a TV studio where he could sell his story. If he was going to be treated like this, Michael was sure he was going to at least make some money off it once it was done.