Clay turns to me one last time. “If anything goes wrong, use Cal's card. He'll help if he can. Remember, it’s a real job.”
I watch as Clay gets back into the shuttle that's no longer pretending to be an SUV and vanishes into the stars, leaving me alone with alien strangers.
I stand at the threshold of the ship, my handbag on my shoulder and clutching my translator necklace like a lifeline.
“The docking area is not a comfortable place to sleep,” the grey man says. “Don’t be afraid. We will not harm you. We are here to transport you to the Celestial Spire. I am the Commander of this ship.” Then he gestures to a corridor on the other side of the hangar.
I nod, he begins walking, and I force my feet to follow his, each step in my black heels echoing on the metal floor like a countdown to whatever comes next.
Behind us, through a transparent barrier, Earth hangs in space like a misty blue marble. So beautiful and so impossibly far away. I think about my tiny studio apartment. I'll never see it again. Never walk down a familiar street or smell freshly baked cookies or taste a real coffee. I'll never sit in another Terra Sanctum staff meeting and roll my eyes at Cal's attempts at humor. Now I know why he was so bad atit. He’s a mother fucking alien, and I’m pretty convinced he’s trafficked me.
And no one will know whatreallyhappened to me. No one will file a missing person’s report. No one will put my picture on milk cartons. I've spent my whole life being invisible, and now I've literally vanished without a trace. Miranda and Sophia were right. I should have listened to them, and now it’s too late.
I begin following the Commander and I can’t control my emotions. My tears start again as I catch glimpses of Earth from the small windows as we walk through the ship. In each window, Earth grows smaller. I'm literally watching my entire world disappear, and there's nothing I can do to stop it.
5
COMPANIONS, NOT PETS, EVE
“Madame Eve,”the Commander says, his tone clipped. “This way to your quarters.”
The Commander leads me through the ship’s dark corridors. Everything is black, grey, or green, all highlighted by glowing yellow script and bands of light near the floor as the only sources of light in the hallways. Despite my fear, I can’t help but feel like I’m in a movie theater.
In the shadows, we pass other grey-skinned human-like men in identical uniforms to the Commander’s. They all have long black hair too, some in single braids, others in complex patterns. Most pass me with blank faces, as if a human woman aboard their ship is nothing remarkable. But a few aliens look at me longer than necessary. And those looks make me feel uncomfortable, so I hold on to my necklace more tightly than necessary, remembering Clay’s advice.
As we turn a corner, I glimpse down another corridor where two human women lean against a wall casually talking. I’m shocked. I thought I was the only human onboard.
But I quickly notice they’re wearing what can only be described as strategic scraps of fabric and decorative chains that cling to everycurve of their bodies while revealing far more than they conceal. One has honey-blonde hair that falls over her bare shoulders; her top is little more than two dozen delicate chains that manage to trace the swell of her breasts. The other, a brunette, is wearing something that might, generously, be called a dress, but it looks more like expensive sci-fi lingerie masquerading as clothing.
Both have thin silver collars around their throats, delicate, but unmistakably designating ownership. When they notice the Commander, they immediately stop talking and lower their gazes in perfect submission.
I feel sick as I realize what they must be. Not staff. Not equal. Prostitutes. Women who travel with the military.
“You didn’t tell me there were other humans onboard.”
The Commander spares a glance over his shoulder, expression remote. “Officers' companions. They're not like you. You're an employee of the Celestial Spire. The Sovereign Directors of the Ascendant Alliance ensure your position.”
“So you mean those humans are...” I can't bring myself to say the word.
“Companions. Well-treated and content, I promise.”
I stop walking. “I want to speak to them.”
The Commander hesitates, clearly reluctant, then offers a curt nod.
We approach the women, and I search their faces for fear or desperation. Instead, I see something that chills me even more. Serenity.
“Are you prisoners?” I ask bluntly.
They just stare at me with beautiful and innocent eyes.
The Commander translates in his alien language, and my translator converts his words: “Tell her what you are. She doesn't understand.”
“We are beloved companions,” the blonde replies in the same alien tongue. “We bring pleasure and comfortto our masters.”
The brunette adds, “We have never been to Earth. We were born in Imperial breeding facilities and trained from childhood in the arts of service.”
The words hit me hard.Breeding facilities. Trained from childhood.I feel terrible for them. I want to ask them more questions, but the Commander dismisses them with a slight hand gesture, and they glide away.
