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Giselle let out an irritated moan as she stirred in bed, eyes still glued together with sleep. When she felt the cushioned mattress underneath her, her still groggy mind was taken aback. Wait... wasn't I just on the street?

Giselle's head was pounding with a hangover. Laying back and rubbing her eyes she forced herself to remember. Ok, let's backtrack... I was at Tessa's Halloween party... I'd left around 1:30... I was about two blocks from my house and then... her mind started to scramble. She thought she remembered hitting something, or something hitting her? There was light, noise and then... nothing.

Giselle giggled and smiled to herself as her confusion passed into comprehension. Ah, it must have been a dream then, she thought, just a stupid drunken dream. Shifting in her bed again she felt the boning of her corset dig into her side. God I must've been really wasted last night, I didn't even change out of my costume. She rolled onto her back and finally opened her eyes, looking over at the place where her digital clock would be… and found the gapping green maw of a massive beast staring back at her.

Giselle screamed, thrashing out at the beast wildly as she scrambled back, falling off her bed. Only it wasn't her bed. What she had been sleeping on was a large white cushion, surrounded by a series of metal petals. They folded back from it and gathered underneath its base forming a sort of pedestal beneath it. It looked like it some kind of pod or container.

But Giselle didn't register this though. Her mind was too panicked as she scrambled back across the floor from the creature, backing into a glass wall. Her eyes darted around with the sharp motions of a frightened animal searching for escape. As she looked around her initial panic slowly filtered away, but only to be replaced by a deep, foreboding sense of dread. She began to realize… that was exactly what she was.

Giselle had backed into the corner of a large glass cage. Above her see-through roof she could see a high curved, obsidian ceiling that stretching out into the distance. As she lowered her gaze again and looked out beyond her transparent walls, she saw she wasn't the only one there. Row after row of similar cages lined up around her as far as the eye could see, and each one held a different creature. Some cages were filled with liquids, dirt, or coloured gasses, while others were bare, like hers, and held only strange and mal-formed beasts. She could hear their little noises through her walls, squeaks, growls and snuffles as they crawled, fluttered or swam slowly around the confines of their cells in a dizzying kaleidoscope of life. The creature that had startled her was one such occupant; it looked like a triceratops that had been shrunk down to size and had an extra pair of legs growing out of its sides. However, unlike her, the lazy movements of the other creatures were calm, showing no sign of panic or upset.

A noise behind her caused Giselle to jolt forward and spin around. The glass wall in the cage next to her seemed to melt away, leaving a large circular hole in its center and through that hole glided an ugly, yellowish, creature. Giselle almost gagged when she saw it, the creature looked like a giant of a ball of mucus. It had no legs, just a short, squat, sphere of a body that constricted and relaxed, allowing it to propel itself forward. Ribbons of a mucus-like substance probed outwards like arms, and a neck-less head with four pitch-black eyes turned its attention to the large chrome bud in the corner of the cage.

Giselle watched as the phlegm-tentacles whipped around it, lashing the bud at various points for a few seconds until, with a hiss, the metal contraption bloomed and wilted revealing a white cushioned center, much like the one she awoke on. On the cushion was small creature; grey with a skinny, angular face and seven long willowy limbs all covered in a soft down of fur. It was fast asleep, just as she had been. As phlegm-creature oozed out of the cage the circular opening closing behind it and moved on to the next cage where she could see another bud waited to bloom.

Giselle's body began to shake with fear. She shook so badly that her arms, which had been propping her up, buckled underneath her and she collapsed into a trembling heap on the floor. She lay there petrified and quivering with tears streaming down her face. She had no idea where she was, when she had got there, why she was there, or what the hell those creatures where. She didn't know how long she had been unconscious, or what was done to her while she was out. There was only one thing she knew, two simple words that pounded repeatedly throughout her mind with an angry clarity and sent a million terrifying images scampering after them in their wake: Alien. Abduction.

*****

The patterns left by her fingertips faded as soon as Giselle lift her hand from the glass. The mini-triceratops on the other side casually sniffed the area where the fog of her prints had been visible before turning to look back at her expectedly. Giselle turned away from the glass, moving back towards her white cushioned "bed". She collapsed onto it and curled up on her side. How long has she been here? Six days? Eight? For all she knew it was weeks, it was impossible to tell. Giselle had soon found out that time passes differently when you have nothing to measure its' flow. The high domed ceiling still stretched out into nothing while what seemed like miles and miles of animals in glass cages lined the floor. There were brief intervals where one or two of the Phlegm (as she had come to call them) would come passing down the aisles between their cages, otherwise the tow of time was nonexistent.

They would come around with a large cart filled with plates of different kinds of mash, all different colors and textures, a few of them even moving, and insert a specific one into each cage before moving on. The stuff they gave Giselle looked like mashed potatoes and tasted like wetted down puffed rice. It was bland, but not terrible. At first she wouldn't touch it for fear of what it might be, but soon hunger got the best of her and she began lapping it up like it was gourmet cooking whenever it came down.

The ribbing of her corset dug into her sides, cutting off her circulation again. She winced a little but simply rolled over onto her back, it was easier to deal with if she lay on her back. She had tried loosening it a couple times but it was hard to do by herself, and she didn't want it so loose that it fell off. Giselle knew it was silly, she knew she should just take it off; it was causing her nothing but grief, making it difficult to move and harder to breath. She'd even had to force herself to stop crying after she passed out the first time from her gasping sobs being cut off by it. And her shoes weren't any better. She could feel where the stilettos had rubbed her ankles raw, but… she just couldn't bring herself to get rid of them. She had a feeling that if she took them off the Phlegm would come by and take them away, and she couldn't let that happen. For some reason, she just couldn't let them go. They were the only other thing here that was Earth, like her.

What do they want me for? What do they want any of these creatures for? Sometimes she would see one of them pass by holding a large metal pad. They'd press it to a cage for a minute and analyse the read-outs before moving on. They didn't seem like they were harming or experimenting or probing any of the creatures in any way (as years of Hollywood cinema had told Giselle they would do) they just seemed to be checking up on them, making sure they were healthy and happy.

Giselle coughed up a short, mocking laugh. Happy!? I'm in an alien spacecraft, probably a million miles away from home. My friends, my family, they're probably light-years away panicking over where I've gone. And hell, I don't even know if that's right! I haven't seen a thing before waking up in this glass box. I could be on the moon or on another planet or, hell, if I'm lucky maybe I'm in some secret base still on Earth. Her sarcastic laughter soon turned around on her though and Giselle found herself biting back tears again.

Suddenly Giselle felt the floor underneath her begin to shake and shudder with the slowing of inertia. She almost fell off her bed from the shock of it. She hadn't felt anything before this that would have hinted at the fact that they were moving. Does that mean I'm on a spaceship? She wondered anxiously. She didn't like that thought; If she was on a spaceship then that meant that each passing second was probably taking her further and further away from Earth.

The floor gave one last, sudden lurch beneath her before finally grinding to a halt. The next few minutes where a flurry of activity as the Phlegm swarmed up and down the aisles, holding up metal pads to cages, looking at the read-outs, giving out extra feedings, even entering some cages and physically examining the creatures. Giselle gave off a sigh of relief when all the aliens did was give her a sideways glance through the glass. After awhile the flurry finally stopped and they disappeared and left her and the creatures to their usual aloneness. What's going on? Giselle thought. It wasn't until several hours later that she saw any of them again.

When they next appeared she heard them before she saw them, and that alone made her cower back onto her bed. The soft bodies of the Phlegm barely made any sound then they moved, but now she could distinctly hear the clip-clop-clip-clop of something else. They came into view and she saw that one of the Phlegm was oozing down the hallway towards her, and beside it walked a strange looking quadruped. It reminded her of a horse except it had a long trunk and it was covered in splotchy blue scales.

As they made their way down the aisle Giselle watched them stop now and then in front of particular cages, examining the animals inside. Each time they stopped the Phlegm would begin waving its tentacles in an odd dance. The Quadruped's gaze would move back and forth between them until it would seem to grow board and then continue to move along down the aisle. The routine continued like this, a cage, a glance and moving on, until soon Giselle found herself curled up in the corner of her bed staring out into the opaque, grass-green eyes of the Quadruped.

It was unnerving, during the Phlegm's tentacle dance it wouldn't stop staring at her. Giselle was hardly adapt at reading alien expressions but from her perspective it looked like the Quadruped was… excited? After while it turned to the Phlegm, making several high-pitched trumpeting noises in its glee. The Phlegm responded by slapping the side of Giselle's cage with its tentacles. Immediately a large hole melted away before them and the Quadruped stepped inside.

Giselle froze solid. Up until now her sensations had been starved. All she had been exposed to since being brought here was the smooth surface of the walls, the bland taste of her mush and stale air she breathed. Now she was assaulted with the pungent odor of Quadruped, a smell like brine and dust, wafting on the tiny breeze that came through the opening. The Quadruped stepped closer to her, lowering its head so that its eyes where level with hers, and reached forward with its trunk to gently touch her cheek.

The touch was what snapped her out of it. Faster than she could think Giselle grabbed up her food tray and smashed it into the side of the Quadruped's head. It reared back in pain, trumpeting loudly and quickly retreated outside the cage again. As soon as the opening was sealed the Quadruped turned on the Phlegm bellowing and waving its trunk around while the Phlegm flailed its tentacles about widely making a series of high-pitched chirping noises. With a sense of pride washing over her Giselle watched as they hastily made their way back down the aisle, arguing all the way. It was the first time since she had gotten there that she had felt any sort of control of her situation. She hugged the food plate to her chest, swearing never to let it go.

But her victory was a short lived one. No sooner had the aliens vanished from sight than she began to hear something, a soft, low hum that seemed to emanate from the very walls of her cage. The noise steadily increased in volume, and as it got louder and louder Giselle found herself becoming drowsier and drowsier. Oh God, No!Please, no! I can't fall asleep, not now.. . But it didn't matter what she wanted. Soon enough unconsciousness claimed her.

*****

The furry, green ball that rolled beside the Phlegm circled lazily around Giselle as she stood in the center of her cage, her indifferent gaze following it as it moved around her. This was the twelfth pair of aliens to pass by her cage since her last feeding, only the second one to actually enter it. Occasionally a long proboscis would emerge from the mass of fur to lift her arm or touch her face. It felt cold and slimy but she didn't recoil or push it away. She didn't really care if it touched her. Soon, however, the pair grew board and left her cage, moving along the aisle once again.

Giselle reached up and touched the metal collar at her throat. After the incident with the Quadruped she had woken up feeling oddly calm and apathetic with the new collar now clamped around her neck. She had examined it in her reflection in the glass; it was a simple plain-grey chocker with a glowing orange stone set in the middle. She'd quickly deduced that the collar was probably responsible for her new passivity but, once again, she found she didn't really mind.

Different aliens moved past her cage with the Phlegm more and more frequently now. She watched them all with an expression of indifference. Even when some of them took an interest in her and actually entered her cage she would just watch unresponsively as they moved around her. This is wrong, a part of her mind said, it's perverse, it's cruel. But even though she knew this she still didn't care. Nothing concerned her now. Her internal clock looked on as hours, days, weeks passed by, marked only by the passing by of strange creatures and the regular feedings she received.

Once Giselle watched as her green-skinned neighbour was examined by a Phlegm and a huge, red lizard-like alien. They spent a fair amount of time in there. The Lizard looked over her triceratops friend extensively. It walked around him, petted him, and even played with him as Giselle watched them chase each other around the cage in a series of good-humoured hisses and squeals. Eventually the Lizard seemed satisfied with the creature and hissed something to the Phlegm. The Phlegm responded by producing a small metal ball curled tightly in a tentacle. It handed the ball over to the Lizard who grasped it in a forepaw, making it beep and shine for a second, before handing it back to the Phlegm. She watched as all three of them left the cage together and walked away, her old companion trotting happily beside the one who had apparently liberated it.

The collar may have taken away her fear and revulsion, but it apparently had no effect on her curiosity. Giselle watched with mild confusion as she saw the same thing happen to more of her neighbours. New aliens would come with the Phlegm and examine the animals until they appeared to find one they liked. Then the ritual with the ball would take place, and the aliens would walk out of the prison with one of the liberated creatures by its side. She watched passively as it happened again with the spindly grey creature on her other side. As it scampered up its' new multi-armed friend, chattering excitedly, she had the sudden impression of a puppy in a pet-store playing with its' new owner.

Then the shock of sudden clarity hit her like a bucket of cold water. She couldn't believe it. It seemed too obvious, too absurd for an advanced alien race like this. But she could see no other solution. The mindless joy of the animals when they were played with, the approval and happiness on the faces of their new owners, this place wasn't a prison; it was a pet-store! And she, and all the other animals there, where the pets! That ritual with the ball had to be some kind of exchange, an approval saying that the customer now owned the animal.

Again, she did not fear this revelation, even though her mind said it was what she should be feeling, the collar inhibited that. Instead all she felt was the clarity and a small flush of self-fulfillment at having deduced the purpose behind this place. Now she knew the routines, the procedures, and the meanings behind them. Now I know, she thought as she lay down on her bed, but it doesn't change anything.

*****

Time seemed to slip further and further away from Giselle. She watched on through the glass walls of her cage as the "pet-store" slowly emptied itself of life. Customers came and went, her nearest neighbour now was five cages to her left. She watched it from her bed through the transparent walls between them as its small black form scurried around its cell.

As she watched it scamper she began to ponder. Not many of us left in here now. The customers aren't really coming anymore either. I guess all the good pets are taken. She felt a tiny stab to her pride at the thought of not being considered a "good" pet, these small glimmers of emotion where all that seemed left to her now. When will I be sold? She wondered aimlessly, And what if they don't sell me? What will happen if no one wants me? Giselle's mind flashed through several possibilities, each one more gruesome than the last, but again no fear came. She fingered her collar again, it was a habit she developed every time she didn't feel something she knew she should. As her fingers glided across the smooth metal she knew she would hate the thing if she could.

She was torn out of her musings by the sound of footsteps approaching. Lifting her head and looking towards the noise Giselle knew immediately that it was a customer. The food-cart only hummed when it moved and, as she well knew, the Phlegm moved silently. Through the distorted view of a hundred empty glass cubes she was able to see them coming from a long way off, a small yellow blob moving beside a tall dark spire. They became more defined as they grew closer, she squinted a little to make out the customer's shape. It had a dark boxy center split down the middle from the base up to about the halfway point. The top was significantly more bulky than the bottom but as it got closer she saw its bulkiness came from two large appendages sprouting out near the top. The tip of the spire was smooth, almost spherical in shape…

Suddenly Giselle lunged forward pressing herself against the wall. Something burst forth inside her, something that even the collar couldn't contain. Excitement. There's no way. No way. It couldn't possibly be a... "Human".

Her own voice shocked her, it sounded rough and raspy from months of disuse. But as the two forms got closer her excitement dwindled. She saw that the form beside the Phlegm was not a human, but the similarities were astonishing. The body, the way it was hinged, the way it moved, it looked exactly like a human male. The facial features, the construction of the hands and feet, all so human. He was even dressed like a human, coated in a tight, wide-necked, black shirt and pants made from similar fabrics. What few differences there were between them were minimal compared to the strangeness of some of the other aliens she'd seen. The man's skin was a deep crimson for one, and his eyes were solid yellow, no pupils at all. He had no hair but rather a mass of tendrils, an inch thick at the base and tampered at the end, which fell back and down his shoulders like dread-locks. There was no nose, just a smooth bump in the center of his face, and each finger ended in a shining hematite claw reminding her of a bird's talons. He was strange, but still he was the most familiar thing she'd seen since waking in this place.

With anxious eyes she watched as they moved past her scurrying neighbour straight towards her cage. The man was talking to the Phlegm so he didn't see her at first… but when he looked up… and caught her gaze… she almost cried with joy as she recognized the look that crossed his face, such a human look of surprise and shock.

She watched the man take off from beside the Phlegm, running up the aisle until he was in front of her cage, and stood staring at her, his face a mask of shock and bewilderment. Giselle, still pressed against the perpendicular wall, pushed back and stood in the center of her cage facing him. She watched with intrigue as his hand reached forward, tips of the black claws grazing the glass, and for several moments they merely looked at each other in silence. Then he spoke to her.

His voice made her step back in surprise. He was so human in appearance she had half-expected his words to be human too, but they weren't. His words came out a mixture of growls and purrs like the voice of a rumbling lion. She had no idea what they meant. Immediately she touched her collar again, her dam from the waves of despair and disappointment. By now the Phlegm had caught up with the man and began the same tentacle dance it always did, but the man wasn't paying attention anymore.

As she watched his face twisted into a snarl of rage and Giselle found herself stepping back again hurriedly. Like lightning his hand whipped out to the side, catching the Phlegm in one clawed fist, she was amazed his talons didn't tear through that soft body. He turned to the Phlegm and roared, causing the creature to lash out with its tentacles and scream in its high-pitched, chirping voice. This did not dissuade its attacker. The man waved a hand in Giselle's direction and shook the creature as it began to chirp faster, bellowing all the while.

Giselle's back hit the wall and she slid down the glass. She had retreated as far as she could to try and escape the scene, still not afraid but not wanting to become part of the dispute. What on Earth did I do? She thought, for it was obviously her presence that had started this. She watched in unfelt horror as the scene before her escalated, the man's voice becoming louder and more raged, the Phlegm's become higher and more frantic until, at last, the Phlegm let out a final high-pitched wail that seemed to stop the man's assault.

His expression grew blank, and he turned back to look at Giselle crouching at the edge of her cage. A crimson brow furrowed in thought for a moment before he finally released the Phlegm. The man stood up straight in front of her cage again, his features set in determination. He growled something at the Phlegm but it hesitated, still seemingly distressed after the attack. He growled again and quickly the Phlegm produced for him the small metal ball. The man grabbed the ball tightly, it beeped and shone, and he let it drop back into the Phlegm's soft tendrils.

That was it. Giselle watched as the ball was placed out of sight again, I'm bought.

The glass before him melted away. Carefully, he stepped through the hole and made his way towards her. His features had softened from the rage she'd seen before as he crouched in front of her, reaching out with a red hand. She looked at it, looked back at him. He purred something to her and moved his hand closer. She gazed at the hand again and a slow look of comprehension crossed her face. For only the second time in months her voice croaked out again "Yeah. Okay. I get the message."

Giselle reached out and took the hand as he pulled her to her feet. Now that they stood face to face she saw that he was a head taller than her. His fingers touched the collar around her neck and she felt a clawed thumb hover over the gem. The Phlegm moved forward now, chirping a warning, but the man silenced it with another low growl and it retreated meekly back outside the cage. She felt him press down on the stone and the collar pop off her neck. A moment later she felt a wave of something surge up from inside her as her eyes rolled back and, once again, she tumbled into unconsciousness.

*****

The blackness clung to her, clouding her mind. She had only vague impressions of her senses left to guide her as phantom arms wrapped around her ghostly form and lifted her up. She thought she heard whispers as she drifted through a half-perceived world shrouded in black. Her consciousness swam through the groggy haze, searching for a foothold to climb back to reality until, finally, she was granted one with the sound of voices to guide her through it.

…Voices?... I can hear voices! They were blurry and far away but coming closer. She began to make out words.

".... -e'll be com-.... too now"

"Go-... -ant to step back. The merchant said she'd become viole-... -ollar off."

Human voices?! That was all the incentive she needed. With one final heave through the dark Giselle jolted awake, bolting upright on something cool and metallic. She found herself on a metal bed in a small, grey room, filled with cupboards and counters covered in tools. As she looked at the numerous pronged and plated instruments Giselle felt as if every nightmarish fantasy she had ever had since arriving in this place had finally materialized before her, and fear surged up within her chest like an old friend. She whirled around, frantically looking for the owners of the human voices, until her eyes settled on a short humpbacked creature with big blue eyes and scaly white skin.

Giselle acted on instinct, hurling herself off the metal bed and pushing it towards the alien. When she found it didn't move she grabbed the only other weapon available, a metal tray, scattering the tools arranged on its surface, and made to hurl it at the alien's bulbuls head. Instead, halfway through the motion her wrist was caught by a large, red talon.

Her face jolted up and she found herself staring into the pupil-less yellow eyes of her purchaser, "Easy there," he whispered, "easy girl. We're not going to hurt you, okay? Just calm-"

"LET GO OF ME!" Giselle's unused scream caused her to cough violently as she jerked her arm away from the man's grasp. She quickly retreated back against the wall, still brandishing the tray before her like a sword.

The man let go of her easily, lifting his hands in front of him in a universal sign of peace, "Shhh, it's okay. Everything's fine. No one's going to hurt y-"

"Holy God you're talking English." Giselle's voice was high, shrill and cracked from neglect. Her legs began to shake under her. This was too much. "How the hell are you talking English?!"

The man moved slowly, his next words where soft and clear, "That's what I'm trying to say. You -."

"Where the hell am I?!" She screamed, "How did I get here?! And how the hell are you talking?! "

"Easy, easy! Just calm down. I promise, everything will be alright." Very slowly, the man lifted one claw and pointed at his chest, "I'm Dazargeil. We're in a hospital right now. Do you know what a hospital is?"

The man's calming voice and open body language had caught Giselle off-guard. All the aliens she had come into contact with until this moment had treated her with nothing more than passing interest. She hadn't been expecting such kindness, such openness. It threw her. With nothing else to do, she slowly nodded in response.

He smiled, "Good. This is Yos'talc," he indicated the scaly white alien currently staring wide-eyed at the scene before him, "he's a doctor here. Do you remember? On the merchant's ship, when I took the Emotional Dampener off you?" He pointed to his throat, indicating that he meant the collar that she had worn, she nodded again, "Good, that's good. You see, when I took that collar off it released a drug into your system. It knocked you out, so you wouldn't regain your…'violent tendencies' and attack me. After you fell unconscious I brought you here. I needed to be able to communicate with you when you woke up. So, I had Yos'talc here insert a neural translator so we could talk."

Giselle's quivering hand dropped the tray a centimetre, she was still shaking uncontrollably, "What?"

Dazargeil turned his back to her (Giselle couldn't help but admire the trusting gesture) and lifted aside his tendrils to show her a tiny metallic bump sticking out from the back of his neck, right where the spine met the skull, "This. It scans your brain when you talk. It's able to decode the meaning of the words you say, and then transmit that meaning to my translator which translates it into my own language." He looked over his shoulder back to her "Do you understand?"

Giselle couldn't do anything but stare blankly back at him. That explained why his mouth didn't quite match up with the words he spoke, but too much information was trying to be processed all at once and it was giving her mental whiplash. Carefully, she dislodged one hand from the tray and reached up to touch the back of her neck. Sure enough she felt a small, cold bump right where Dazargeil's had been, "You… you put a probe in my brain?"

Dazargeil let his tendrils fall as he turned back to face her "Translator, and it's not in your brain. It's attached to a nerve bundle in your neck. It's easily removed if you'd rather not have it in."

For a brief moment Giselle considered yelling at Dazargeil to take the chip out of her skull immediately, but she quickly pushed the idea aside. Keeping the ability to communicate with these people was probably the best course of action right now. She shook her head. Dazargeil smiled again, obviously pleased at her reaction.

Several moments passed between them when neither of them spoke,until Giselle realized that he was waiting for her to speak. He had said his piece, now he was letting her have her turn to talk. Her next words were spoken hesitantly. She was scared of what the response would be once she asked this question, but she needed to know, she had to. "You... bought me. Didn't you? From... from the pet-store?" Dazargeil's smile fell from his face. He simply nodded in response. "Why?"

Uncertainty fell across Dazargeil's features, like he didn't know how to answer her question. When he spoke again he seemed to weigh each word carefully before he said it, "Because you didn't belong there... You shouldn't have been there to begin with. It… was a mistake."

Giselle's shock must of shown on her face, because Dazargeil's voice grew sympathetic as he continued, "Do you know why you where brought there? Why those merchant's picked you for their store?" Again, all Giselle could do was shake her head, "It was because you are a mammal. Do you know what a mammal is?"

Confusion swept over Giselle, but she nodded again.

Dazargeil sighed deeply at her response, running a hand through his tendrils in an exasperated gesture, "Damn, how could they have gotten it so wrong?" Turning his gaze back to her, he continued, "I... I don't know what it's like on your planet, but here intelligent mammalian species are… they are extremely rare. Unlike most species, that are continuously evolving, mammals can't evolve past a certain point. They hit a 'plateau', so to speak, and then they start to de-evolve. It's a circle, one that very rarely is large enough to develop any significant intelligence. My species, Pravels, are one of the very few to make it to that point. I'm mammal you see, just like you, and when I saw you in that cage I..."

He bit his lip, another human-like gesture, and looked away from her, "You... looked so much like a Pravel. I knew you couldn't be some stupid animal like the rest. Evolution couldn't have given you that specific a form and not given you intelligence to go with it. And I was right.

"You know what a hospital is, you know what mammals are, and you're able to communicate coherently. Of course, those merchants hadn't checked for that. All they saw was another mammal for their store. I couldn't believe how stupid they were! I was so frustrated with their ignorance, so angry at the fact that they abducted a sentient being just for profit, I just-!" he stopped for a second, taking a breath to steady himself before moving on, "I tried to tell them of their mistake, tried to convince them to let you go, but they wouldn't have it. They just said to me 'If you want her you can pay for her'." He stopped and looked up at her again, "I'm sorry. It was the only way to get you out."

Giselle's entire body had gone numb. Her joints locked and she was shaking even harder as tears burned in her eyes. Of all the reasons of why I was here, all the possible solutions to my questions, and this is what I'm given?! Genes! That's the reason behind all my suffering?!

The voice of Yos'talc, broke through her melancholic thoughts. It was rough and grizzled like an old man's, "She's starting to break down, Dazargeil. Perhaps you should put the E.D. collar back on her until she calms-"

Giselle was astonished when her scream of 'No!' was echoed by Dazargeil's. "No! Absolutely not!" he said, "She's been tied down by that thing too long. She's just scared." He gave him a long, hard look, "Wouldn't you be?"

Yos'talc paused and looked thoughtfully between Dazargeil and Giselle for a moment, until, finally, he nodded solemnly. He turned around and left the room then, shutting the door behind him. He obviously wanted to get away from the drama.

The two of them where alone now. Dazargeil smiled again, seemingly in approval of the doctor's response, as he turned back to Giselle and said, "There, you see? No one is going to hurt you here. No one is going to force you to do anything. So just... calm... down."

Giselle didn't respond at first. Her mind was a tangled mess at that moment, trying to make sense of all she had just learned. This is all just too surreal. I'm a mammal. That's why I'm here? That's why this happened? My life has been torn apart because of that and he's asking me to be calm?!

But still, Giselle was exhausted, mentally and physically. With aching slowness, she lowered her metal tray and brought it to rest against her knees.

Dazargeil moved forward, hands out, making sure not to scare her again. When he reached her side her gaze was locked on the metal plate in her hands. Gently he grasped the edge of the plate in his talons, slowly sliding it out of her grasp.

Giselle looked at her now empty fingers, still shaking with adrenaline. Hot tears welled up in her eyes and she wasn't sure she could stay standing any longer. She was so tired. Her head fell forward and rested on Dazargeil's chest. She felt him flinch a little at the unexpected motion and then relax beneath her touch. Cautiously, he placed clawed hand on each of her shoulders, a gesture she recognised from Earth, indicating acceptance and protection, and whispered softly, "Do you have a name?"

Her throat still hurt when she spoke, but she was able to croak out through her tears "G-Gi-Giselle."

She could almost feel him smile above her, "Giselle then. What do you want now, Giselle?"

The question was so simple, the answer even simpler. It was the first thing she thought when she came to this place, the first thing she thought everyday she woke up and found herself still here. It was the purest and simplest of all childhood needs, and it felt like heaven to finally say it out loud, "Hu-I wh-wh-wanna go hu-hu-hu-home."

She felt him tense at her words, and at that moment she knew what would come next. "Giselle... I don't know where your home is. I don't know how to get there. And even if I did I don't have the means to take you back." Giselle choked out another sob and she felt Dazargeil's arms wrap around her shoulders, his lips talking into her hair "Shh, don't cry girl, don't cry. I don't have means Giselle, but... I can try and obtain them."

Giselle raised her eyes to his, her tear-stained face now flickering with hope. Dazargeil wiped her cheeks with the back of a claw and continued, "The merchant's ship is still docked on this station. I know they must keep star-logs, maps of the places where they've traveled to get their animals. I can acquire a copy from them, your planet must be somewhere on it. We'll find it, but it will take quite some time. There inventory was large so their maps will be even larger. But even if we find your homeworld... Giselle, acquiring passage on interstellar ships is a long and difficult procedure; doubly so if you want them to take you somewhere specific, and especially if it's far away. We'll have to wait until I can find the means to send you home. It will take a long time Giselle, and there's no guarantee that it will even work. But, if you're willing to be patient… I'm willing to try."

     Giselle simply looked up at him, she didn't know how to react, "You...you would do... all this? For me?"

Dazargeil's smile grew again as if she had just said something funny. He took a step back; holding her at arm's length, he bent down to her eye level, "Other species don't understand. They don't understand a mammal's desire for home, to be in the place where they belong. But I'm like you Giselle. I know that desire deep in my heart, and I know how painful and powerful it can be. I promise you, Giselle, I will try to fulfill that desire. I will try to get you home."

And he kept his word.

Description
Giselle let out an irritated moan as she stirred in bed, eyes still glued together with sleep. When she felt the cushioned mattress underneath her, her still groggy mind was taken aback. Wait... wasn't I just on the street?

Giselle's head was pounding with a hangover. Laying back and rubbing her eyes she forced herself to remember. Ok, let's backtrack... I was at Tessa's Halloween party... I'd left around 1:30... I was about two blocks from my house and then... her mind started to scramble. She thought she remembered hitting something, or something hitting her? There was light, noise and then... nothing.

Giselle giggled and smiled to herself as her confusion passed into comprehension. Ah, it must have been a dream then, she thought, just a stupid drunken dream. Shifting in her bed again she felt the boning of her corset dig into her side. God I must've been really wasted last night, I didn't even change out of my costume. She rolled onto her back and finally opened her eyes, looking over at the place where her digital clock would be… and found the gapping green maw of a massive beast staring back at her.

Giselle screamed, thrashing out at the beast wildly as she scrambled back, falling off her bed. Only it wasn't her bed. What she had been sleeping on was a large white cushion, surrounded by a series of metal petals. They folded back from it and gathered underneath its base forming a sort of pedestal beneath it. It looked like it some kind of pod or container.

But Giselle didn't register this though. Her mind was too panicked as she scrambled back across the floor from the creature, backing into a glass wall. Her eyes darted around with the sharp motions of a frightened animal searching for escape. As she looked around her initial panic slowly filtered away, but only to be replaced by a deep, foreboding sense of dread. She began to realize… that was exactly what she was.

Giselle had backed into the corner of a large glass cage. Above her see-through roof she could see a high curved, obsidian ceiling that stretching out into the distance. As she lowered her gaze again and looked out beyond her transparent walls, she saw she wasn't the only one there. Row after row of similar cages lined up around her as far as the eye could see, and each one held a different creature. Some cages were filled with liquids, dirt, or coloured gasses, while others were bare, like hers, and held only strange and mal-formed beasts. She could hear their little noises through her walls, squeaks, growls and snuffles as they crawled, fluttered or swam slowly around the confines of their cells in a dizzying kaleidoscope of life. The creature that had startled her was one such occupant; it looked like a triceratops that had been shrunk down to size and had an extra pair of legs growing out of its sides. However, unlike her, the lazy movements of the other creatures were calm, showing no sign of panic or upset.

A noise behind her caused Giselle to jolt forward and spin around. The glass wall in the cage next to her seemed to melt away, leaving a large circular hole in its center and through that hole glided an ugly, yellowish, creature. Giselle almost gagged when she saw it, the creature looked like a giant of a ball of mucus. It had no legs, just a short, squat, sphere of a body that constricted and relaxed, allowing it to propel itself forward. Ribbons of a mucus-like substance probed outwards like arms, and a neck-less head with four pitch-black eyes turned its attention to the large chrome bud in the corner of the cage.

Giselle watched as the phlegm-tentacles whipped around it, lashing the bud at various points for a few seconds until, with a hiss, the metal contraption bloomed and wilted revealing a white cushioned center, much like the one she awoke on. On the cushion was small creature; grey with a skinny, angular face and seven long willowy limbs all covered in a soft down of fur. It was fast asleep, just as she had been. As phlegm-creature oozed out of the cage the circular opening closing behind it and moved on to the next cage where she could see another bud waited to bloom.

Giselle's body began to shake with fear. She shook so badly that her arms, which had been propping her up, buckled underneath her and she collapsed into a trembling heap on the floor. She lay there petrified and quivering with tears streaming down her face. She had no idea where she was, when she had got there, why she was there, or what the hell those creatures where. She didn't know how long she had been unconscious, or what was done to her while she was out. There was only one thing she knew, two simple words that pounded repeatedly throughout her mind with an angry clarity and sent a million terrifying images scampering after them in their wake: Alien. Abduction.

*****

The patterns left by her fingertips faded as soon as Giselle lift her hand from the glass. The mini-triceratops on the other side casually sniffed the area where the fog of her prints had been visible before turning to look back at her expectedly. Giselle turned away from the glass, moving back towards her white cushioned "bed". She collapsed onto it and curled up on her side. How long has she been here? Six days? Eight? For all she knew it was weeks, it was impossible to tell. Giselle had soon found out that time passes differently when you have nothing to measure its' flow. The high domed ceiling still stretched out into nothing while what seemed like miles and miles of animals in glass cages lined the floor. There were brief intervals where one or two of the Phlegm (as she had come to call them) would come passing down the aisles between their cages, otherwise the tow of time was nonexistent.

They would come around with a large cart filled with plates of different kinds of mash, all different colors and textures, a few of them even moving, and insert a specific one into each cage before moving on. The stuff they gave Giselle looked like mashed potatoes and tasted like wetted down puffed rice. It was bland, but not terrible. At first she wouldn't touch it for fear of what it might be, but soon hunger got the best of her and she began lapping it up like it was gourmet cooking whenever it came down.

The ribbing of her corset dug into her sides, cutting off her circulation again. She winced a little but simply rolled over onto her back, it was easier to deal with if she lay on her back. She had tried loosening it a couple times but it was hard to do by herself, and she didn't want it so loose that it fell off. Giselle knew it was silly, she knew she should just take it off; it was causing her nothing but grief, making it difficult to move and harder to breath. She'd even had to force herself to stop crying after she passed out the first time from her gasping sobs being cut off by it. And her shoes weren't any better. She could feel where the stilettos had rubbed her ankles raw, but… she just couldn't bring herself to get rid of them. She had a feeling that if she took them off the Phlegm would come by and take them away, and she couldn't let that happen. For some reason, she just couldn't let them go. They were the only other thing here that was Earth, like her.

What do they want me for? What do they want any of these creatures for? Sometimes she would see one of them pass by holding a large metal pad. They'd press it to a cage for a minute and analyse the read-outs before moving on. They didn't seem like they were harming or experimenting or probing any of the creatures in any way (as years of Hollywood cinema had told Giselle they would do) they just seemed to be checking up on them, making sure they were healthy and happy.

Giselle coughed up a short, mocking laugh. Happy!? I'm in an alien spacecraft, probably a million miles away from home. My friends, my family, they're probably light-years away panicking over where I've gone. And hell, I don't even know if that's right! I haven't seen a thing before waking up in this glass box. I could be on the moon or on another planet or, hell, if I'm lucky maybe I'm in some secret base still on Earth. Her sarcastic laughter soon turned around on her though and Giselle found herself biting back tears again.

Suddenly Giselle felt the floor underneath her begin to shake and shudder with the slowing of inertia. She almost fell off her bed from the shock of it. She hadn't felt anything before this that would have hinted at the fact that they were moving. Does that mean I'm on a spaceship? She wondered anxiously. She didn't like that thought; If she was on a spaceship then that meant that each passing second was probably taking her further and further away from Earth.

The floor gave one last, sudden lurch beneath her before finally grinding to a halt. The next few minutes where a flurry of activity as the Phlegm swarmed up and down the aisles, holding up metal pads to cages, looking at the read-outs, giving out extra feedings, even entering some cages and physically examining the creatures. Giselle gave off a sigh of relief when all the aliens did was give her a sideways glance through the glass. After awhile the flurry finally stopped and they disappeared and left her and the creatures to their usual aloneness. What's going on? Giselle thought. It wasn't until several hours later that she saw any of them again.

When they next appeared she heard them before she saw them, and that alone made her cower back onto her bed. The soft bodies of the Phlegm barely made any sound then they moved, but now she could distinctly hear the clip-clop-clip-clop of something else. They came into view and she saw that one of the Phlegm was oozing down the hallway towards her, and beside it walked a strange looking quadruped. It reminded her of a horse except it had a long trunk and it was covered in splotchy blue scales.

As they made their way down the aisle Giselle watched them stop now and then in front of particular cages, examining the animals inside. Each time they stopped the Phlegm would begin waving its tentacles in an odd dance. The Quadruped's gaze would move back and forth between them until it would seem to grow board and then continue to move along down the aisle. The routine continued like this, a cage, a glance and moving on, until soon Giselle found herself curled up in the corner of her bed staring out into the opaque, grass-green eyes of the Quadruped.

It was unnerving, during the Phlegm's tentacle dance it wouldn't stop staring at her. Giselle was hardly adapt at reading alien expressions but from her perspective it looked like the Quadruped was… excited? After while it turned to the Phlegm, making several high-pitched trumpeting noises in its glee. The Phlegm responded by slapping the side of Giselle's cage with its tentacles. Immediately a large hole melted away before them and the Quadruped stepped inside.

Giselle froze solid. Up until now her sensations had been starved. All she had been exposed to since being brought here was the smooth surface of the walls, the bland taste of her mush and stale air she breathed. Now she was assaulted with the pungent odor of Quadruped, a smell like brine and dust, wafting on the tiny breeze that came through the opening. The Quadruped stepped closer to her, lowering its head so that its eyes where level with hers, and reached forward with its trunk to gently touch her cheek.

The touch was what snapped her out of it. Faster than she could think Giselle grabbed up her food tray and smashed it into the side of the Quadruped's head. It reared back in pain, trumpeting loudly and quickly retreated outside the cage again. As soon as the opening was sealed the Quadruped turned on the Phlegm bellowing and waving its trunk around while the Phlegm flailed its tentacles about widely making a series of high-pitched chirping noises. With a sense of pride washing over her Giselle watched as they hastily made their way back down the aisle, arguing all the way. It was the first time since she had gotten there that she had felt any sort of control of her situation. She hugged the food plate to her chest, swearing never to let it go.

But her victory was a short lived one. No sooner had the aliens vanished from sight than she began to hear something, a soft, low hum that seemed to emanate from the very walls of her cage. The noise steadily increased in volume, and as it got louder and louder Giselle found herself becoming drowsier and drowsier. Oh God, No!Please, no! I can't fall asleep, not now.. . But it didn't matter what she wanted. Soon enough unconsciousness claimed her.

*****

The furry, green ball that rolled beside the Phlegm circled lazily around Giselle as she stood in the center of her cage, her indifferent gaze following it as it moved around her. This was the twelfth pair of aliens to pass by her cage since her last feeding, only the second one to actually enter it. Occasionally a long proboscis would emerge from the mass of fur to lift her arm or touch her face. It felt cold and slimy but she didn't recoil or push it away. She didn't really care if it touched her. Soon, however, the pair grew board and left her cage, moving along the aisle once again.

Giselle reached up and touched the metal collar at her throat. After the incident with the Quadruped she had woken up feeling oddly calm and apathetic with the new collar now clamped around her neck. She had examined it in her reflection in the glass; it was a simple plain-grey chocker with a glowing orange stone set in the middle. She'd quickly deduced that the collar was probably responsible for her new passivity but, once again, she found she didn't really mind.

Different aliens moved past her cage with the Phlegm more and more frequently now. She watched them all with an expression of indifference. Even when some of them took an interest in her and actually entered her cage she would just watch unresponsively as they moved around her. This is wrong, a part of her mind said, it's perverse, it's cruel. But even though she knew this she still didn't care. Nothing concerned her now. Her internal clock looked on as hours, days, weeks passed by, marked only by the passing by of strange creatures and the regular feedings she received.

Once Giselle watched as her green-skinned neighbour was examined by a Phlegm and a huge, red lizard-like alien. They spent a fair amount of time in there. The Lizard looked over her triceratops friend extensively. It walked around him, petted him, and even played with him as Giselle watched them chase each other around the cage in a series of good-humoured hisses and squeals. Eventually the Lizard seemed satisfied with the creature and hissed something to the Phlegm. The Phlegm responded by producing a small metal ball curled tightly in a tentacle. It handed the ball over to the Lizard who grasped it in a forepaw, making it beep and shine for a second, before handing it back to the Phlegm. She watched as all three of them left the cage together and walked away, her old companion trotting happily beside the one who had apparently liberated it.

The collar may have taken away her fear and revulsion, but it apparently had no effect on her curiosity. Giselle watched with mild confusion as she saw the same thing happen to more of her neighbours. New aliens would come with the Phlegm and examine the animals until they appeared to find one they liked. Then the ritual with the ball would take place, and the aliens would walk out of the prison with one of the liberated creatures by its side. She watched passively as it happened again with the spindly grey creature on her other side. As it scampered up its' new multi-armed friend, chattering excitedly, she had the sudden impression of a puppy in a pet-store playing with its' new owner.

Then the shock of sudden clarity hit her like a bucket of cold water. She couldn't believe it. It seemed too obvious, too absurd for an advanced alien race like this. But she could see no other solution. The mindless joy of the animals when they were played with, the approval and happiness on the faces of their new owners, this place wasn't a prison; it was a pet-store! And she, and all the other animals there, where the pets! That ritual with the ball had to be some kind of exchange, an approval saying that the customer now owned the animal.

Again, she did not fear this revelation, even though her mind said it was what she should be feeling, the collar inhibited that. Instead all she felt was the clarity and a small flush of self-fulfillment at having deduced the purpose behind this place. Now she knew the routines, the procedures, and the meanings behind them. Now I know, she thought as she lay down on her bed, but it doesn't change anything.

*****

Time seemed to slip further and further away from Giselle. She watched on through the glass walls of her cage as the "pet-store" slowly emptied itself of life. Customers came and went, her nearest neighbour now was five cages to her left. She watched it from her bed through the transparent walls between them as its small black form scurried around its cell.

As she watched it scamper she began to ponder. Not many of us left in here now. The customers aren't really coming anymore either. I guess all the good pets are taken. She felt a tiny stab to her pride at the thought of not being considered a "good" pet, these small glimmers of emotion where all that seemed left to her now. When will I be sold? She wondered aimlessly, And what if they don't sell me? What will happen if no one wants me? Giselle's mind flashed through several possibilities, each one more gruesome than the last, but again no fear came. She fingered her collar again, it was a habit she developed every time she didn't feel something she knew she should. As her fingers glided across the smooth metal she knew she would hate the thing if she could.

She was torn out of her musings by the sound of footsteps approaching. Lifting her head and looking towards the noise Giselle knew immediately that it was a customer. The food-cart only hummed when it moved and, as she well knew, the Phlegm moved silently. Through the distorted view of a hundred empty glass cubes she was able to see them coming from a long way off, a small yellow blob moving beside a tall dark spire. They became more defined as they grew closer, she squinted a little to make out the customer's shape. It had a dark boxy center split down the middle from the base up to about the halfway point. The top was significantly more bulky than the bottom but as it got closer she saw its bulkiness came from two large appendages sprouting out near the top. The tip of the spire was smooth, almost spherical in shape…

Suddenly Giselle lunged forward pressing herself against the wall. Something burst forth inside her, something that even the collar couldn't contain. Excitement. There's no way. No way. It couldn't possibly be a... "Human".

Her own voice shocked her, it sounded rough and raspy from months of disuse. But as the two forms got closer her excitement dwindled. She saw that the form beside the Phlegm was not a human, but the similarities were astonishing. The body, the way it was hinged, the way it moved, it looked exactly like a human male. The facial features, the construction of the hands and feet, all so human. He was even dressed like a human, coated in a tight, wide-necked, black shirt and pants made from similar fabrics. What few differences there were between them were minimal compared to the strangeness of some of the other aliens she'd seen. The man's skin was a deep crimson for one, and his eyes were solid yellow, no pupils at all. He had no hair but rather a mass of tendrils, an inch thick at the base and tampered at the end, which fell back and down his shoulders like dread-locks. There was no nose, just a smooth bump in the center of his face, and each finger ended in a shining hematite claw reminding her of a bird's talons. He was strange, but still he was the most familiar thing she'd seen since waking in this place.

With anxious eyes she watched as they moved past her scurrying neighbour straight towards her cage. The man was talking to the Phlegm so he didn't see her at first… but when he looked up… and caught her gaze… she almost cried with joy as she recognized the look that crossed his face, such a human look of surprise and shock.

She watched the man take off from beside the Phlegm, running up the aisle until he was in front of her cage, and stood staring at her, his face a mask of shock and bewilderment. Giselle, still pressed against the perpendicular wall, pushed back and stood in the center of her cage facing him. She watched with intrigue as his hand reached forward, tips of the black claws grazing the glass, and for several moments they merely looked at each other in silence. Then he spoke to her.

His voice made her step back in surprise. He was so human in appearance she had half-expected his words to be human too, but they weren't. His words came out a mixture of growls and purrs like the voice of a rumbling lion. She had no idea what they meant. Immediately she touched her collar again, her dam from the waves of despair and disappointment. By now the Phlegm had caught up with the man and began the same tentacle dance it always did, but the man wasn't paying attention anymore.

As she watched his face twisted into a snarl of rage and Giselle found herself stepping back again hurriedly. Like lightning his hand whipped out to the side, catching the Phlegm in one clawed fist, she was amazed his talons didn't tear through that soft body. He turned to the Phlegm and roared, causing the creature to lash out with its tentacles and scream in its high-pitched, chirping voice. This did not dissuade its attacker. The man waved a hand in Giselle's direction and shook the creature as it began to chirp faster, bellowing all the while.

Giselle's back hit the wall and she slid down the glass. She had retreated as far as she could to try and escape the scene, still not afraid but not wanting to become part of the dispute. What on Earth did I do? She thought, for it was obviously her presence that had started this. She watched in unfelt horror as the scene before her escalated, the man's voice becoming louder and more raged, the Phlegm's become higher and more frantic until, at last, the Phlegm let out a final high-pitched wail that seemed to stop the man's assault.

His expression grew blank, and he turned back to look at Giselle crouching at the edge of her cage. A crimson brow furrowed in thought for a moment before he finally released the Phlegm. The man stood up straight in front of her cage again, his features set in determination. He growled something at the Phlegm but it hesitated, still seemingly distressed after the attack. He growled again and quickly the Phlegm produced for him the small metal ball. The man grabbed the ball tightly, it beeped and shone, and he let it drop back into the Phlegm's soft tendrils.

That was it. Giselle watched as the ball was placed out of sight again, I'm bought.

The glass before him melted away. Carefully, he stepped through the hole and made his way towards her. His features had softened from the rage she'd seen before as he crouched in front of her, reaching out with a red hand. She looked at it, looked back at him. He purred something to her and moved his hand closer. She gazed at the hand again and a slow look of comprehension crossed her face. For only the second time in months her voice croaked out again "Yeah. Okay. I get the message."

Giselle reached out and took the hand as he pulled her to her feet. Now that they stood face to face she saw that he was a head taller than her. His fingers touched the collar around her neck and she felt a clawed thumb hover over the gem. The Phlegm moved forward now, chirping a warning, but the man silenced it with another low growl and it retreated meekly back outside the cage. She felt him press down on the stone and the collar pop off her neck. A moment later she felt a wave of something surge up from inside her as her eyes rolled back and, once again, she tumbled into unconsciousness.

*****

The blackness clung to her, clouding her mind. She had only vague impressions of her senses left to guide her as phantom arms wrapped around her ghostly form and lifted her up. She thought she heard whispers as she drifted through a half-perceived world shrouded in black. Her consciousness swam through the groggy haze, searching for a foothold to climb back to reality until, finally, she was granted one with the sound of voices to guide her through it.

…Voices?... I can hear voices! They were blurry and far away but coming closer. She began to make out words.

".... -e'll be com-.... too now"

"Go-... -ant to step back. The merchant said she'd become viole-... -ollar off."

Human voices?! That was all the incentive she needed. With one final heave through the dark Giselle jolted awake, bolting upright on something cool and metallic. She found herself on a metal bed in a small, grey room, filled with cupboards and counters covered in tools. As she looked at the numerous pronged and plated instruments Giselle felt as if every nightmarish fantasy she had ever had since arriving in this place had finally materialized before her, and fear surged up within her chest like an old friend. She whirled around, frantically looking for the owners of the human voices, until her eyes settled on a short humpbacked creature with big blue eyes and scaly white skin.

Giselle acted on instinct, hurling herself off the metal bed and pushing it towards the alien. When she found it didn't move she grabbed the only other weapon available, a metal tray, scattering the tools arranged on its surface, and made to hurl it at the alien's bulbuls head. Instead, halfway through the motion her wrist was caught by a large, red talon.

Her face jolted up and she found herself staring into the pupil-less yellow eyes of her purchaser, "Easy there," he whispered, "easy girl. We're not going to hurt you, okay? Just calm-"

"LET GO OF ME!" Giselle's unused scream caused her to cough violently as she jerked her arm away from the man's grasp. She quickly retreated back against the wall, still brandishing the tray before her like a sword.

The man let go of her easily, lifting his hands in front of him in a universal sign of peace, "Shhh, it's okay. Everything's fine. No one's going to hurt y-"

"Holy God you're talking English." Giselle's voice was high, shrill and cracked from neglect. Her legs began to shake under her. This was too much. "How the hell are you talking English?!"

The man moved slowly, his next words where soft and clear, "That's what I'm trying to say. You -."

"Where the hell am I?!" She screamed, "How did I get here?! And how the hell are you talking?! "

"Easy, easy! Just calm down. I promise, everything will be alright." Very slowly, the man lifted one claw and pointed at his chest, "I'm Dazargeil. We're in a hospital right now. Do you know what a hospital is?"

The man's calming voice and open body language had caught Giselle off-guard. All the aliens she had come into contact with until this moment had treated her with nothing more than passing interest. She hadn't been expecting such kindness, such openness. It threw her. With nothing else to do, she slowly nodded in response.

He smiled, "Good. This is Yos'talc," he indicated the scaly white alien currently staring wide-eyed at the scene before him, "he's a doctor here. Do you remember? On the merchant's ship, when I took the Emotional Dampener off you?" He pointed to his throat, indicating that he meant the collar that she had worn, she nodded again, "Good, that's good. You see, when I took that collar off it released a drug into your system. It knocked you out, so you wouldn't regain your…'violent tendencies' and attack me. After you fell unconscious I brought you here. I needed to be able to communicate with you when you woke up. So, I had Yos'talc here insert a neural translator so we could talk."

Giselle's quivering hand dropped the tray a centimetre, she was still shaking uncontrollably, "What?"

Dazargeil turned his back to her (Giselle couldn't help but admire the trusting gesture) and lifted aside his tendrils to show her a tiny metallic bump sticking out from the back of his neck, right where the spine met the skull, "This. It scans your brain when you talk. It's able to decode the meaning of the words you say, and then transmit that meaning to my translator which translates it into my own language." He looked over his shoulder back to her "Do you understand?"

Giselle couldn't do anything but stare blankly back at him. That explained why his mouth didn't quite match up with the words he spoke, but too much information was trying to be processed all at once and it was giving her mental whiplash. Carefully, she dislodged one hand from the tray and reached up to touch the back of her neck. Sure enough she felt a small, cold bump right where Dazargeil's had been, "You… you put a probe in my brain?"

Dazargeil let his tendrils fall as he turned back to face her "Translator, and it's not in your brain. It's attached to a nerve bundle in your neck. It's easily removed if you'd rather not have it in."

For a brief moment Giselle considered yelling at Dazargeil to take the chip out of her skull immediately, but she quickly pushed the idea aside. Keeping the ability to communicate with these people was probably the best course of action right now. She shook her head. Dazargeil smiled again, obviously pleased at her reaction.

Several moments passed between them when neither of them spoke,until Giselle realized that he was waiting for her to speak. He had said his piece, now he was letting her have her turn to talk. Her next words were spoken hesitantly. She was scared of what the response would be once she asked this question, but she needed to know, she had to. "You... bought me. Didn't you? From... from the pet-store?" Dazargeil's smile fell from his face. He simply nodded in response. "Why?"

Uncertainty fell across Dazargeil's features, like he didn't know how to answer her question. When he spoke again he seemed to weigh each word carefully before he said it, "Because you didn't belong there... You shouldn't have been there to begin with. It… was a mistake."

Giselle's shock must of shown on her face, because Dazargeil's voice grew sympathetic as he continued, "Do you know why you where brought there? Why those merchant's picked you for their store?" Again, all Giselle could do was shake her head, "It was because you are a mammal. Do you know what a mammal is?"

Confusion swept over Giselle, but she nodded again.

Dazargeil sighed deeply at her response, running a hand through his tendrils in an exasperated gesture, "Damn, how could they have gotten it so wrong?" Turning his gaze back to her, he continued, "I... I don't know what it's like on your planet, but here intelligent mammalian species are… they are extremely rare. Unlike most species, that are continuously evolving, mammals can't evolve past a certain point. They hit a 'plateau', so to speak, and then they start to de-evolve. It's a circle, one that very rarely is large enough to develop any significant intelligence. My species, Pravels, are one of the very few to make it to that point. I'm mammal you see, just like you, and when I saw you in that cage I..."

He bit his lip, another human-like gesture, and looked away from her, "You... looked so much like a Pravel. I knew you couldn't be some stupid animal like the rest. Evolution couldn't have given you that specific a form and not given you intelligence to go with it. And I was right.

"You know what a hospital is, you know what mammals are, and you're able to communicate coherently. Of course, those merchants hadn't checked for that. All they saw was another mammal for their store. I couldn't believe how stupid they were! I was so frustrated with their ignorance, so angry at the fact that they abducted a sentient being just for profit, I just-!" he stopped for a second, taking a breath to steady himself before moving on, "I tried to tell them of their mistake, tried to convince them to let you go, but they wouldn't have it. They just said to me 'If you want her you can pay for her'." He stopped and looked up at her again, "I'm sorry. It was the only way to get you out."

Giselle's entire body had gone numb. Her joints locked and she was shaking even harder as tears burned in her eyes. Of all the reasons of why I was here, all the possible solutions to my questions, and this is what I'm given?! Genes! That's the reason behind all my suffering?!

The voice of Yos'talc, broke through her melancholic thoughts. It was rough and grizzled like an old man's, "She's starting to break down, Dazargeil. Perhaps you should put the E.D. collar back on her until she calms-"

Giselle was astonished when her scream of 'No!' was echoed by Dazargeil's. "No! Absolutely not!" he said, "She's been tied down by that thing too long. She's just scared." He gave him a long, hard look, "Wouldn't you be?"

Yos'talc paused and looked thoughtfully between Dazargeil and Giselle for a moment, until, finally, he nodded solemnly. He turned around and left the room then, shutting the door behind him. He obviously wanted to get away from the drama.

The two of them where alone now. Dazargeil smiled again, seemingly in approval of the doctor's response, as he turned back to Giselle and said, "There, you see? No one is going to hurt you here. No one is going to force you to do anything. So just... calm... down."

Giselle didn't respond at first. Her mind was a tangled mess at that moment, trying to make sense of all she had just learned. This is all just too surreal. I'm a mammal. That's why I'm here? That's why this happened? My life has been torn apart because of that and he's asking me to be calm?!

But still, Giselle was exhausted, mentally and physically. With aching slowness, she lowered her metal tray and brought it to rest against her knees.

Dazargeil moved forward, hands out, making sure not to scare her again. When he reached her side her gaze was locked on the metal plate in her hands. Gently he grasped the edge of the plate in his talons, slowly sliding it out of her grasp.

Giselle looked at her now empty fingers, still shaking with adrenaline. Hot tears welled up in her eyes and she wasn't sure she could stay standing any longer. She was so tired. Her head fell forward and rested on Dazargeil's chest. She felt him flinch a little at the unexpected motion and then relax beneath her touch. Cautiously, he placed clawed hand on each of her shoulders, a gesture she recognised from Earth, indicating acceptance and protection, and whispered softly, "Do you have a name?"

Her throat still hurt when she spoke, but she was able to croak out through her tears "G-Gi-Giselle."

She could almost feel him smile above her, "Giselle then. What do you want now, Giselle?"

The question was so simple, the answer even simpler. It was the first thing she thought when she came to this place, the first thing she thought everyday she woke up and found herself still here. It was the purest and simplest of all childhood needs, and it felt like heaven to finally say it out loud, "Hu-I wh-wh-wanna go hu-hu-hu-home."

She felt him tense at her words, and at that moment she knew what would come next. "Giselle... I don't know where your home is. I don't know how to get there. And even if I did I don't have the means to take you back." Giselle choked out another sob and she felt Dazargeil's arms wrap around her shoulders, his lips talking into her hair "Shh, don't cry girl, don't cry. I don't have means Giselle, but... I can try and obtain them."

Giselle raised her eyes to his, her tear-stained face now flickering with hope. Dazargeil wiped her cheeks with the back of a claw and continued, "The merchant's ship is still docked on this station. I know they must keep star-logs, maps of the places where they've traveled to get their animals. I can acquire a copy from them, your planet must be somewhere on it. We'll find it, but it will take quite some time. There inventory was large so their maps will be even larger. But even if we find your homeworld... Giselle, acquiring passage on interstellar ships is a long and difficult procedure; doubly so if you want them to take you somewhere specific, and especially if it's far away. We'll have to wait until I can find the means to send you home. It will take a long time Giselle, and there's no guarantee that it will even work. But, if you're willing to be patient… I'm willing to try."

     Giselle simply looked up at him, she didn't know how to react, "You...you would do... all this? For me?"

Dazargeil's smile grew again as if she had just said something funny. He took a step back; holding her at arm's length, he bent down to her eye level, "Other species don't understand. They don't understand a mammal's desire for home, to be in the place where they belong. But I'm like you Giselle. I know that desire deep in my heart, and I know how painful and powerful it can be. I promise you, Giselle, I will try to fulfill that desire. I will try to get you home."

And he kept his word.