“Well, this time, what if I tell you?”
“No,” Sharp says. “You cannot risk yourself again. This obsession with freeing humans from the alien trade is going to get you killed.”
“But there’s humans being sold to the alien trade.”
“There’s always bad things happening in the universe. You can’t try to fix them all. You have to find your own happiness where you can. We want to start a family with you, pet.”
“Then why aren’t I pregnant?”
“What?”
“If you’ve been fucking me all this time, how come I never had a baby?”
“We don’t know,” Boss says. “But sometimes it takes time.”
“We were going to take you to the human pet vet to be checked out before you disappeared,” Kronos says.
“We should do that,” Sharp says.
They start talking amongst themselves while I try to come to terms with things.
They don’t get it. They tell me to just be happy and selfish, but I can’t find happiness when I keep running into other people in pain, people who could easily be me. People who sort of are me. I’ve been stolen too, and even though I guess I kind of like the aliens who ruthlessly dominate me, I don’t really have a choice in the matter. I’m ambivalent about my own life, and I am damn sure I need to save the other humans. I need to stop aliens from swooping down and stealing us from the world below. I’ve got to do it, no matter what.
Three days later, we dock at a station. I haven’t said much about anything. I’m letting my mates think I’m giving my mission up. The station is pretty filthy and criminal in nature, because that’s the sort of place mercenaries dock to get jobs, and once again, there are humans for saving. Women who come from the wild parts of our world being traded to monstrous aliens who will ravage and punish them at best, and kill them at worst.
“Stay here,” Sharp says. “We are going to go and look for work.”
I thought they weren’t going to take on any more jobs, but I guess they’ve decided they’ll just cage me when they’re busy. They don’t say that outright, or at all, but I assume it’s true so I can justify what I’m going to do the moment they leave me alone.
I steal the ship.
I don’t think they know that I know how to do this, but I’ve been hanging around on the bridge for a reason. I paid attention when they were flying. I learned where the controls are, and what buttons to push.
I know it’s wrong to take a ship that isn’t yours and set a course for the third rock from the sun, but I want to sort things out from the beginning. Hanging around three aliens and bickering with them while thousands of humans are being sold is not useful to anyone. I’m actually doing the universe a favor by stealing this ship. I’ll go back to Earth, and I’ll confront the CEO of Zeal. I’ll let him know what’s going on, and I’ll threaten to expose him if he doesn’t agree to put an end to things. Or something. I’ll sort it out when I get there.
This time, it’s going to work.
CHAPTER 7
Iopen my eyes.
There’s a bird singing out the window. White curtains flutter in the wind. A kindly lady wearing a white coat and stethoscope is looking down at me with an air of gentle expectation. I can smell wet earth, and rain. I haven’t smelled either of those things for a very, very long time. They’re invigorating.
“You’re awake,” she says.
I smile, because she seems nice, and because I feel good. It feels like I’ve been asleep for a very long time. Like I’ve had the best nap ever. I’m so rested. This must be what people mean when they say women are supposed to get ten hours of sleep a night. I feel like I’ve slept a decade. Or a century. I feel like Sleeping Beauty. Are those tendrils coming in through the window? Are there thorns on them?
A fluttering bird dives through the open window and flies about the room, chirping in a way that seems to indicate an air of triumph.
“What’s your name, sweetheart?”
I look at the doctor. My lips part. It’s a simple question. I’ve been answering it for as long as I could speak.
To my surprise, there’s a blank where I used to be. My lips move, as if they’re going to form the word. But nothing comes out. I search my mind. It remains blank.
“I need your name,” she says. “You’re not in trouble.”
“Why would I be in trouble?”
