“Really? It’s a her now? That’s how this plays out?” Rogers grunted, the hours of movement without resting taking a toll on him. “You never stop, do you?”
“Don’t get all excited, even a boar hog can be a she; it doesn’t mean I’m going to go exchanging phone numbers and asking her to prom.”
Rogers shook his head in frustration and moved back against a bench. “If you’re serious, then have at it. Get the clothes off this thing,” he said, leaning back in surrender.
Jacob sat up. “Why don’t you just ask it first?”
James turned and looked back at him. “Ask?”
“She knows we’ll find out anyhow. I’m sure she’s been listening—”
Rogers sighed and shook his head. “And now here you go with the she.”
Jacob ignored the comment and continued. “This is a good test; give it up the easy way or we find it the hard way. Let’s see what she has to say. We need to know what’s going on out there.”
James shrugged, looking over to Rogers. “He’s got a point; why take her alive if we weren’t planning to use her for something?” The leader returned an apathetic shrug in response.
James inched closer to the restrained alien. The creature had not moved since it was dropped to the floor hours earlier. Men along the walls, sensing something was about to happen, adjusted their posture, their full attention now focused on the creature.
James grabbed at the alien’s uniform and yanked it into an upright, seated position, forcing its head away from him. He worked on the knot of fabric at the base of its neck and tugged the satchel from its face.
The alien squinted in the light; its bright blue eyes closed tightly and slowly opened. Jacob saw sadness in the creature’s face. He began to feel pangs of sympathy before he caught himself, remembering what this thing was capable of. He looked around the room and could see the other soldiers were having the same reaction. James reached ahead and pulled away a final strip of fabric that had bound its mouth. Once its lips were free, it swiveled its head smoothly, examining the room and the faces of the strange men.
“Why have you taken me? Where am I?” she asked in a soft voice.
Jacob was amazed that the tone was matter of fact, the English clean and crisp. She showed no signs of fear or displays of emotion. The creature sounded unconcerned, even though its eyes deceived it.
“This is my summer guest house. I want to apologize in advance; the lake house is being renovated, and the housekeeper is home with a sick kid,” James said.
“Guest house?” she asked, puzzled.
Rogers shook his head, not amused. “Just ask.”
James frowned. Using his thumb and index finger, he stroked the heavy beard covering his chin. “Are you wearing a locator?”
Without answering, she gave him a puzzled expression.
“Are you wearing anything that will allow your people to find you?” he said, speaking slow and deliberately.
“Why would I have such a device? No member of the communal is any more valuable than another.”
“So where is it? How do they track you?” James asked.
She looked at him absently. “Why would they track me?”
James cracked his knuckles, letting his eyes examine her uniform, looking for anything distinct. “Well… since you say there is no device, I guess we can cut all of your clothing off and shred it. According to you, I will find nothing and that would prove you are truthful.” He stared at the alien and saw her expression hadn’t changed. “Or, we search your clothing and find a device. Then—well, let’s just say it’d be better if I found you trustworthy, and you just gave it to me now.”
“I don’t understand your reasoning,” she said.
James reached to his hip and drew a long, custom Ka-Bar.
“I’m just saying it isn’t healthy to be caught in a lie. You sure you ain’t got something on you?”
He leaned in close, slowly turning the blade so the alien could see it from every angle while the light reflected off the sharpened surface. James grabbed the chest of her uniform with his gloved hand and pulled it tight. “Now you’ll have to take it easy on me. I’m not used to undressing ladies this way.” She drew away from him. He stuck the blade close to the fabric and let the razor-sharp knife sink into the material. It cut as easy as silk, quickly splitting with slow movements of the blade.
She lugged back again and turned her head to the side. “Yes, I have such a device.”
“Ah, really? You mind telling me where it is?”
She stretched out her bound arms and looked to her balled up left hand. “It’s in the glove.”
Rogers stood from the bench he was leaning on. “Now hold up; that’s the weaponized hand.” He moved forward so he was in front of her. “Tell us how to safely remove it, or I’ll cut the entire arm off.”
She scowled, turning away from Rogers, not liking his harsh tones. “The glove cannot be removed with my hand like this.”
Losing patience, Jesse stood up and, moving closer, he said, “Let’s just kill this thing and get rid of it.” He stepped close to get a better view. Other men nodded, agreeing with him.
She shook her head, worry now clearly showing in her eyes. “The glove is not a weapon. It is not lethal. Only designed to render obedience.”
“I can think of only one good way to do this.” Rogers reached out violently and grabbed her bound wrists, pulling them tight, and dragging the alien partway across the floor as she whined in protest. Then he brought in his boot and stepped on her
