“IF YOU DON’T HAVE THE GUTS TO COME DOWN, I DON’T SEE THE POINT IN TALKING TO A COWARD.”

The rabbit had been taunting them for a while now, the voice echoing around the room. Nick had searched the room, trying to find the source of the sound. But, after listening to the voice carefully, Nick had felt like the room itself resonated with the voice, and the absence of a speaker further convinced her of this theory. It was also evident that the rabbit had some way of observing them, and would often laugh at Nick’s efforts.

Exflibberaguil, on the other hand, had another strategy. He lied on the floor, sulking and returning the taunts thrown at him. Nick had begun to suspect he was enjoying the task too much, but Exflibberaguil insisted that words were the way to harm a rabbit.

“I ask you,” the voice said in response, “would you like to get out of your room and enjoy the world outside?”

“Of course!” Exflibberaguil yelled back.

“I completely agree. That is why I do not want to come to your entrance-less room.”

Exflibberaguil snorted. “You know the entrance. You are just not willing to show it.”

“Precisely. Bravo! Excellent deduction.”

Exflibberaguil snorted again to show he acknowledged the compliment but did not approve of the sarcasm.

“You speak excellent Nedriew,” Exflibberaguil said, returning a compliment but hinting at sarcasm.

“Thank you. I am invading another planet; the least I can do is show the courtesy to learn their language. Besides,” the rabbit added, “it wasn’t difficult to learn. I find the language only describes the most basic and primitive actions. There is no word for the uncomfortable feeling you get when you—say—are about to sneeze but do not. There should be a word for it. It is one of the 5000 essential words in every sophisticated society.”

“I wouldn’t describe Driew as sophisticated…”

“Stop it!” Nick admonished. “And it’s Earth, thank you very much. You’re invading my planet. The least you can do is get its name right.”

“My, she’s very attached to this planet,” the rabbit remarked.

“’Course. She should be. It’s her home planet, after all,” Exflibberaguil replied casually, shrugging carelessly.

There was a long, awkward silence. Not even Exflibberaguil was willing to break it. Even his mouth was tired after spitting insults for three hours.

“…What?” the rabbit uttered finally, putting a strange weight with the word.

“Ah—” Exflibberaguil began, not noticing Nick cutting her through with her hand and signaling him to be silent. “I said—”

Nick jabbed him in the ribs (that is, if Mustela had ribs and ribcages). “Uh—hey! Oh my! We’ve been talking for so long! I don’t know how long because this room doesn’t have a clo—”

“Three hours twenty-two minutes,” Box offered.

“Ha! Time passes quickly, amiright? Ha ha…” she faltered. “Well, um don’t you have any rabbit things to do? And I’m getting a little hungry. Is it lunch time yet?”

“Don’t change the subject!” the rabbit roared, its voice echoing off the walls. Nick felt her eardrums vibrate. She could still hear the sound repeating in her head.

“Ah—okay,” she stammered, before falling silent from fear.

“Now, what did you say?” the rabbit repeated. “The little red-haired alien.”

“Mustela,” Exflibberaguil corrected.

“What. Did. You. Say? Do you need me to repeat that louder?”

Exflibberaguil tried desperately to control his trembling, and hoped it was not visible. “Me? I said nothing. Only that Nick here is not an alien. She’s a native inhabitant of Driew. I really thought you knew…”

“Oh, no, no, no,” the rabbit muttered, though his voice was magnified ten-fold. “You’re lying, aren’t you. You just want me to get in trouble and get executed.”

“I—I’m afraid not,” Exflibberaguil stammered. “Why d-do you need two of us?”

“We incinerated your planet and destroyed everyone. We just feel bad and want to prevent Mustela from going extinct.”

Nick and Exflibberaguil shared awkward, then disgusted glances. They subconsciously moved away from each other.

“Um, well, while I appreciate you concern and—”Exflibberaguil began.

“We also want to perform tests. You have very interesting internal structures. We would just want to dissect you and compare you to the lesser ape-evolved Odriew.”

Exflibberaguil stopped, his mouth gaping in mid-sentence. “Never mind then,” he finally finished, then smacked his dry mouth.

“No thank you!” Nick reproached. “I don’t want to be dissected, thank you very much.”

“Don’t worry. There’s plenty of better candidates to be dissected than a child with an infection.”

“I’m not sure if I’m supposed to be relieved or offended,” Nick muttered.

“Be relieved,” Exflibberaguil advised. “Hey rabbit!” he called. “There should be plenty of other Mustela floating around in space. I’m sure you could find better than a fourteen-year old boy missing half an index finger.” He wiggled the bloody, bandaged stump. “Also, could you give me some more of that pain killer? It’s starting to wear off.”

“Space is big, boy,” the rabbit scoffed. “You can’t simply float around in space and find a Mustela. You have no idea how long it took to track you down.”

“Only about six or seven years, tops,” Exflibberaguil corrected. “Though I spent centuries in space, I used my handy dandy time machine which I’m assuming you’ve found. It’s really quite obvious.”

The rabbit laughed outright. “Ha! That piece of trash isn’t worth our time. And yes, we did spend centuries tracking you down. Just because you have a time machine doesn’t mean others don’t have ways of travelling with you. Your technology is simply not good enough yet.”

“Ouch.”

“H-Hey! You are all missing an important detail here!” Nick said. “What will happen to me?”

“Oh, we’ll just find some place to throw you down, I suppose. Then I’ll have to make an excuse why I only have one Mustela. Tell me, do you think it’s better to commit suicide or be executed. I’ll die either way, but if I commit suicide, my family wouldn’t be embarrassed by others. Though they would probably be disappointed and eat my body for dinner.” The rabbit paused, though evidently not expecting an answer.

“Th-throw me down?” Nick repeated.

“Oh, you’re still thinking about that?” the rabbit said, as if amazed that Nick still remembered such an insignificant fact.

“My bones are fragile! You can’t simply throw me down! I’ll die from the height.”

“You’re right,” the rabbit agreed, “we’ll use the claw. It’s not too painful, as long as it doesn’t crush any bones. I’ll be sure to give you numbing shots, just in case. Probably some sort of sleep medicine as well. I can’t have you screaming your way down. A gag would work too.”

“Numbing shots? A gag—? W—you can’t do that! When I get on the ground, I’ll be sure to spill all your secrets! They’ll definitely trust me! I’m famous on my planet!” Nick lied.

“Ah, that won’t be a problem. I found a very interesting machine on your vehicle. I believe it erases memories. I’m sure, with a few adjustments, I could make you lose all your memory permanently. You’ll have as much memories as an infant.”

“You can’t do that! It’ll damage her brain forever!” Exflibberaguil cried.

“Oh, there are enough Sodriew on this planet. Damaging just one insignificant child won’t make any impact, I’m sure. What? Have you grown attached to this Odriew?”

“Wh—no!” Exflibberaguil relented. “I mean—I just—” he sputtered.

“Then it’s settled. In a few moments, you’ll fall asleep. Don’t fight it. The gas will be potentially toxic if you breathe in too much.”

“Stop!” Nick screamed. “Wait! I didn’t agree to anyth—”

“Nighty-night!”

And the lights turned off.