C is for Cyn (A to Z Blogging Challenge)
Cyn-Tia Silverthorne is the protagonist in my forthcoming novel: An Alien Collective (see sidebar).
From the first chapter:
I opened my eyes, and I gagged. I discovered I was lying face down, and that my mouth was wide open to the grass beneath me. So I lifted my head, rolled my body to the right, and sat up.
Where am I?
My environment was totally unfamiliar.
To get a better view, I stood on my feet and took a couple of stiff and hesitant steps. Then I stopped. A small enclosed compound surrounded me, and I was not alone. About six or seven other young adults were slowly getting to their feet, or starting to move about. Few words were being spoken; the others seemed as stunned as I was.
My head is killing me!
The compound, we were in, was enclosed by a metal fence and carpeted with grass. The sunshine glinted off the six foot high, mesh-like fence. Some sort of large box occupied one corner. To add to my confusion, the sun seemed as strange as the purple-hued grass.
Thinking I could get a better view of the area, I walked towards the fence where it connected to the corner box.
I felt a little breathless; actually, my mind was frozen with confusion.
Over the top of the box, I looked into an adjacent compound inhabited by some strange beings. The humanoids were unlike anything I’d ever seen. These aliens appeared to have all the same body parts as we did, but that’s where any resemblance to humans stopped. Their baldness and large ears seemed to complement their dark mottled skin. The aliens, in my vicinity, had a tall, slim physique. My appearance had instantly stopped their restless movement.
One being was close to my location. Neither of us moved; intensely, we stared at each other over the top of the box.
The alien’s clothing appeared to be soft, supple, and camouflaging. Our closeness allowed me to observe that their skin was consistent with their clothing.
It was unnerving how the alien was similarly undressing me. I felt like I was on display; the feeling was probably mutual.
“Where are they from?” I mumbled out loud.
“We are from the planet Temma,” the alien answered.
Instinctively, I took a big step backward. Then I grunted when I stumbled and almost landed on my ass. I needed to get a handle on my reactions.
“You speak English?”
“Unlikely. But take a look at what is around your neck.” The alien lifted an upper appendage—very similar to a hand—and pointed at me.
I hadn’t noticed there was something metal hanging on a cord around my neck. My right hand reached up and grabbed it. In my hand rested a small black metal object that had lights, numbers, and letters on its surface.
“I believe we’ve all been given universal translators.”
“Who are you?” I blurted. I don’t know why that popped out of my mouth.
“As I said, I am a Temman male, and my name is Stire.”
I should respond, I thought.
“Oh, ah, ah, my name is Cyn. Actually, Cyn-Tia Silverthorne, but just call me Cyn. And I am a girl, I mean female, of the human species.”
Get a grip, idiot. That sounded really stilted.
“Where are we? What are we doing here? Did you bring us here?” I stammered. By this time, the rest of the humans had gathered behind me.
I tried to read Stire’s body language and facial expressions, but my senses were currently overloaded.