Benzen: A Sci-Fi Alien Romance (Warriors of Orba Book 1) Read online

  I look inside the window of this shop and see glass bottles. They are everywhere, and it’s as though their smells are trying to entice me through the gap in the door. They are all so strong, almost putrid.

  “Why would anyone want these?” I wave my hand at the place.

  “From what I can gather,” Draygus scratches his chin, “people buy these tiny bottles and spray the contents on themselves as part of a mating ritual.”

  “Oooohhhh,” I mouth as if I understand, although I certainly do not.

  There’s a person with long hair and a glowing mouth at the front door. Her lips are red and vivid, her teeth perfectly straight and gleaming white. She has huge and spindly tentacles coming from her upper eyelids.

  “Draygus!” I clutch at his arm. “Is that dangerous? That person there?”

  “No… I think that is human woman.”

  “Hmmmm…”

  She sees me paying her attention and comes forth with a little piece of card in her hand.

  “Are you looking to buy some perfume today?” she asks, her mouth twisted up into an unwavering smile.

  I’m terrified of her and the way she is so close to me, so eager to engage with me. I shrink away from her and shake my head.

  “Well, you can take a sample and come back another time. Have a nice day,” she steps back to her original spot and proceeds to ask the exact same question to another person that walks by.

  I look down at the card.

  “Is this toxic?” I ask Draygus. “It smells toxic.”

  Pushing my nose up to the outer corner of the card, I take a short, sharp whiff of the mysterious substance that coats it. It makes my eyes water, and I recoil away from it.

  “Urgh! It’s terrible,” I sneeze. “Humans like this?”

  Victorinth, seeing my distress, comes and urges me to carry on walking with the rest of the group.

  “It can’t be that bad,” she laughs. “Let me smell,” she takes the card from me and breathes in. “Hmm. I actually quite like it. I think I’ll keep this.”

  “Please do,” I breathe a sigh of relief as she takes it from me.

  Meanwhile, the rest of the group is in just as much awe as I am, with their eyes wide and staring at all the different colors and textures that are before us. In the center of the building, at various intervals, are metal tracks that glide down to the floor below. I see a sign to the left of each one:

  ESCALATOR

  “Hey Draygus,” I run to catch up with him. “Have you seen those?”

  “Escalators,” he says. “I have.”

  “Are they like primitive versions of the ascenders we have back home?”

  “They very much are,” he nods. “Except they don’t seem to be powered by the air like ours are. They seem to run on a less efficient fuel.”

  “Hmm,” I look at each one as we pass by. “I think they are very interesting.”

  While the others are more interested in looking in each shop window, I am more focused on the mechanics of the building. The escalators, as well as the boxes I see travel up to the roof with cables on each end, and the way one human is dealt the task of owning a miniature craft that cleans the floor. He must be a very important human, because everyone else has to walk.

  As we reach the end of the building, we find ourselves faced with a shop that is about fifty times bigger than the others. This one is the busiest of all and has a large stock of goods.

  “Where are we now?” Voland and Ethazol ask in unison.

  “This shop is one for food,” Draygus says, pointing inside.

  “Food!” Jarick is so excited at the thought he almost shouts. “I thought we’d never eat again.”

  We try to enter the shop via one of the doors, but it does nothing, and I watch as Jarick walks face-first into the glass.

  “I don’t understand,” he rubs his head. “Those ones over there open,” he points to the ones further down the shop front.

  We all line up in front of the other sliding doors, and to our delight, they glide open.

  “It must have been an amalgamation of all our minds,” Jarick says. “There’s no way the humans have good enough technology to have motion sensors.”

  “I agree,” his little sister Victorinth nods. “The humans seem ever so primitive.”

  As we walk into the shop, we discover it is far brighter than all the others and to me—at least, it smells a lot more pleasant. In fact, it smells so good that I begin to salivate at the prospect of eating all the things I see in front of me.

  I reach out my hand and pick up something that is round and red. It feels slightly hard to the touch, but once I grip it, the skin breaks and the fleshy inside is revealed. I take a bite, the juice inside reviving me.

  “Don’t do that,” Draygus knocks it from my hand. “You have to trade for the food here. You can’t just take it.”

  “Trade?”

  “Yes. With money.”

  “Money? Is that like the currency of the Rigel Credits back home?”

  “It is, Benzen.”

  “But we don’t have any human money!”

  I’m desperate now. After being tempted by the food I feel I need it more than ever, even if I don’t know what any of it is.

  “Hey guys,” Voland steps in. “Let’s not get irate. We're all in shock, tired, and hungry but there must be a way we can bargain with the humans.”

  “I agree,” Draygus looks to us all. “I assume, if they weren’t reasonable, they would have attacked us by now, but it seems as though we are blending in, and they don’t see us as a threat. Maybe they'll just accept our money. Let’s put together what we all have.”

  “I have nothing,” I shrug.

  “Me neither.”

  “I also have nothing,” Jarick shakes his head. “We have, after all, just survived a crash.”

  “Hmmm….” Draygus pinches the bridge of his nose in thought. “I don’t have anything either.”

  “I do,” a little voice at the back comes forward.

  Victorinth is clinging onto her brother’s arm with one hand and showing us some Rigel Credits with the other.

  “How did you manage that?” I look down at her.

  “A girl has her secrets,” she smiles. “I only have seven credits, though,” she frowns. “Will that be enough?”

  “I suppose we'll find out.” Voland takes them from her hand. “Let us see what we can do.”

  It’s very strange and terrifying as we walk around the shop, picking things up and feeling at them with our fingers. Some things look more like weapons than food, while others look rather appetizing. There is one type of food that I enjoy the smell of more than the others. It comes in a bunch of fingers and is yellow. Looking somewhat like an oversized hand, I wonder for a while if it has been taken from a large, yellow animal that resides on this planet. Yet as I inspect it closely, I find it has no circulatory system or nerve endings.

  “Do you suppose these hands can hold things?” I show a couple bunches to Draygus.

  “I am just as unsure as you are,” he frowns. “Perhaps they are not even hands.”

  “Hmmm…”

  Regardless of whether they are real fingers or not, I do greatly enjoy the smell. It is naturally fragrant, with undertones of health, vitality, and strength. I have the feeling that if I eat enough of these, I will be very strong.

  In the distance, I see the others picking out foods they think they’ll like. Victorinth seems to have picked up vast amounts of small things in colorful boxes, while Voland, being as sensible as ever, has looked at what the humans have been wandering around with and is copying them.

  “This,” he shows me a giant object under his arm. “I think this will sustain us somewhat. Many of the humans are buying these, and look,” he points to the layer of fat around it. “It’s a form of animal, and therefore, will give us protein.”

  I nod, fascinated by everyone’s different choices.

  “I think it’s time we try to buy these,” Dra
ygus ushers us to a long line of humans who are putting all their items onto a rubber conveyor belt.

  “This seems very inefficient, standing around all day waiting to buy things. There are so many people in front of us, we’ll be here for some time,” I complain.

  “I hear ya, kid,” a voice comes from behind me.

  I spin around and see a rotund female. At least, I think she is a female, because she has sculpted those strange spindles from the top of her upper lid, and also has bright red lips that shimmer and catch the light. She gives me a slight smile.

  “I hate shopping,” she agrees, rolling her eyes.

  I’m dumbfounded, and so is the crew. It would seem we have blended in so well, the humans have begun to communicate with us.

  “Well done,” Victorinth mouths silently to me.

  Despite the amount of people ahead of us, their items are scanned through a laser device with tremendous speed, then placed into bags. The human then carries them away to consume them with vigor, I can only assume.

  It isn’t long until our items have reached the human who is doing the scanning. I can’t help but worry that she will interrogate us as we approach, but to my surprise, she does no such thing.

  “Good evening,” she says as she slides our items over the laser.

  It isn’t long until she is finished and she stares at all six of us in turn.

  “And how will you be paying today? Cash or card?” she focuses her eyes on Draygus, as he is obviously the oldest.

  “Er… Rigel Credits,” he says.

  “Uh?” the woman screws up her face. “What did you say?”

  “We’ll be paying today with Rigel Credits.”

  I can tell Draygus is nervous, but he’s trying his best. I can’t imagine how scared he is. Looking at him, I try to give him a look of encouragement, and he stares back at me with a worried expression on his face.

  “It’ll be fine,” Victorinth whispers.

  Meanwhile, the female, the gatekeeper of the food, is still looking at us strangely. She glances at the Credits in Draygus’ hand and then looks up at him.

  “Sir… can you wait a moment please?” she stands up from her seat. “I need to speak to my manager.” And with that, she disappears behind a door at the end of the shop.

  “Are we in trouble?” I ask.

  “I think so,” Draygus sighs.

  Chapter 3

  Allison

  This day could not get any slower if it tried. I keep glancing at the clock on the till, and it’s as though time has stopped. I swear to god it’s been five to nine for like forty-five minutes. I can’t complain, though, or at least I shouldn’t. So many people can’t even find a job these days, so at least I can pay the bills. Just about, at least...

  I’ve got to admit, though, when I was growing up, I didn’t exactly yearn to be a checkout girl. I was convinced I was gonna be a vet, taking care of vulnerable animals and nursing them back to health. Of course, that never happened. It probably never will. I’ll most likely be here for the rest of my life and forever be Allison, the girl who spent her whole life scanning groceries.

  I’m not sure what I hate most about being here: the grueling boredom or the rude customers. Most of them don’t even take a second look at me, since pretty much all of them think I’m below them. Some of them, I’m sure, don’t even see me as human. They sure as hell don’t think I have feelings when they’re talking to me like I’m trash and throwing money at me as if it’s my job to pick up their coins like my life depends on it.

  At least this strange bunch in front of me is a little bit interesting, in a funny and odd kinda way. They’re insisting they pay in some weird foreign money or something, or at least not a type of dollar I’ve seen before.

  “I need to speak to my manager,” I tell them before scurrying off down the hall.

  In all honesty, I’m happy to just get out of my seat and walk around for a bit. At times, I think I’m going to become fused to the register, and my legs will be replaced by the office chair I’ve been sat on every day for the last two years. Sometimes I wonder if the customers even realize checkout girls have legs. I bet they think we just exist from the belly up just to handle their food.

  Pushing open the office door, I see him there: my boss. As per usual, he's paying no attention to the job and is instead playing with his phone.

  "Excuse me?"

  He doesn't hear me, he's too busy looking down at the screen with a smirk on his face. I peek down over his shoulder and see a photo of a girl with an ample cleavage and at least two pairs of fake eyelashes. He's on a dating site.

  "Er hello? Excuse me?" I try to catch his attention again.

  "Huh?"

  He barely notices me, because he's frantically typing out a message, one that's probably x-rated.

  "Hey, boss. Do you have a minute?"

  "Uh... Yeah, hang on... I mean, what is it? What's wrong?"

  It's as though he's making an extra special effort to be rude. He doesn't look up at me from his phone, just keeps staring, his thumbs battering out an endless barrage of come-ons.

  "There are some customers out there," I begin to explain. "They're trying to pay with some weird thing I've not seen before."

  He says nothing. The only sound heard in the room is the tapping noise of his thumbs going at lightning speed.

  "Weird thing?" he repeats. "What weird thing?"

  "They said they want to pay with Rigel Credits. I think that's what they said,"

  "What? Credits? Are they foreign?"

  "Yeah, I think so," I reply. "I can't really figure out their accent, though," I shrug.

  "Ah! Well yeah, the credits, sure thing," he says.

  "So...we can accept them?"

  "Whatever," he waves a hand at the door to signal I should leave as soon as possible.

  I sigh as I head back out into the store. There's a huge line at the till, and my face falls when I see all the disgruntled customers lined up. It's a hot evening, and most of them look as though they're deflated. With sweat glistening on their shiny faces and that end of week sense of exhaustion lingering over them, they look less than happy to be forced to wait. If only they hired more staff in here on weekends, we wouldn't have this problem but...my boss wouldn't care if this place closed down. He doesn't want to be here any more than I do.

  Taking a seat back at the register, I see the group still waiting patiently.

  "Are we in trouble?" one of them asks with a desperate look on his face.

  "Trouble?" I laugh. "No! Why would you think that?"

  Seriously, what is he talking about?

  "Will you be able to take our credits?" he asks.

  I look at them in his hand and know full well that they're not US Dollars, but...what do I care? And the boss clearly isn't paying attention. Looking at all of their faces it looks as though they've fallen on hard times. In a moment of weakness, I feel as though I want to help them.

  "Sure," I nod. "I'll take them."

  "Oh thank you so much," the guy gushes.

  He hands over the money, and I take it from his scrawny hands. Our fingers graze each other for the briefest second, and I feel his skin. It's icy to the touch and smooth like ice. I can't help but flinch. He gives me a hurt look, and I smile, trying to not come across as impolite.

  "Thank you."

  Despite there being such a long line with people openly huffing and shuffling from one foot another in boredom, I take my time examining the money. It doesn't feel like American dollars, and the bills are coated in something I've not felt before. It's stiff but pliable.

  "Hmmm..." I put it in the till.

  Then I have an idea.

  "Guys. Don't tell anyone but..." I lean in close. "I'm having a bad day; you're obviously having a bad day, so I feel like being nice.”

  I reach down into the little unseen cupboard by my feet. Pulling out a book of coupons, I tear a big stack out and slide them over the counter.

  "If you bring these i
n tomorrow, you can get free food." I wink. "It's nice to be nice."

  They all stare at me. For a moment I'm not sure if they understand what I'm saying.

  "Free food," I laugh. "It's pretty much my favorite thing in the world."

  They all smile weakly back and nod their heads.

  "Yes. Thank you so much," says the oldest one. "You are a kind person."

  And with that, they leave, shuffling away while looking over their shoulders at me.

  "Weird buncha folk there," the next customer remarks as he approaches and slams down a crate of beer. "Foreigners," he says as he stares at them as they leave the store.

  Chapter 4

  Benzen

  “She was nice,” I say as we leave the shop. “I’m surprised she took our money.”

  “She was nice!” Victorinth agrees as she walks by my side.

  “And she didn’t have the weird eye appendages that the other women here have,” I continue.

  “They’re called eyelashes,” Draygus explains. “On Earth, the longer your eyelashes, the more attractive you are to a male.”

  “Oh.” I look around at the other women nearby. “I don’t really get it.”

  “Mating rituals can be peculiar in different cultures.” Draygus looks down at me.

  “But the thing where they make their lips bright and shiny...” I’m still trying to figure the women out. “Is it some sort of plastic extension, a silicone-based coating or something similar?”

  “I am unsure of the exact chemical formula of the lip coating, but…” he scratches his chin. “I have read in the old texts that human females brighten and redden the appearance of their lips in order to attract a mate. This is because it mimics the redness of ripe berries…if I remember correctly.”

  “And berries are important to humans?” I’m still so confused.

  “I think they must be.” Draygus looks into the distance, lost in his thoughts.

  As we walk through the building, we notice that the shops are beginning to close. One by one, the lights are turned off, and people begin to leave.