A guard with a slithery accent screams, "Move, move, move!"
Bangs on a metal table. Points his rifle at women before laughing like a wild animal. Clara was right. They are all savages. As far as I’m concerned, they need to be hunted.
I'm careful enough to evade the guards, but they have us corralled. No matter how hard I push through the crowd, there's no way to circumvent the current. With my hands chained, there's not much I can do except go with the motions. I am one of the many now.
"No shoving," one guard says. "You are scared, but there is no need for any worry, puppets. They'll put you where you need to be. Everyone will get sorted."
"Where are they taking us?" I ask.
A woman jabs my ribs. "Keep your mouth shut, or you'll get put to auction," she says.
I swallow, though my mouth is dry and sticky. "Auction?" I ask. "But I am from the Earth Federation. I cannot be bought or sold."
Even I know better than that. It’s called cognitive dissonance. Sometimes the brain believes what it has to believe to survive.
"It's better if they put you to work. That way, you get paid. You live a life you can find pride in. Unfortunately, you look sickly. Maybe it’s better if you get tossed to auction," the woman whispers. "A rich donor could save your life if he buys you up."
Another woman barely lifts her head as she says, "But once they sell you, you're his for life. It's the law. With a work permit, you can eventually find a new job. It’s hard to say which fate is better."
"The law," I choke. “None of these laws help me get back home.”
I thought I was the law...
The other alien shakes her head. "You're lucky. You're a human. You'll have people looking for you. Maybe your soldiers will raid your area, and you'll find a way to escape. Most of us have no one to rely on anymore."
“All killed,” another says. “Our villages wrecked because of your lot.”
I turn frantic. The air suddenly feels hot and muggy. It weighs me down as I try to make sense of what is happening to me.
"I don't know what this is about," I say. “Why am I here? Oh, God, why?”
I’m screaming the words and everyone is staring at me.
A guard whistles and points in my direction. I freeze and put my head down. Another guard pushes through the crowd. He grabs me by the neck, forces me toward the back room.
"No," I whisper, voice turning hoarse. "I don't want to go in there. You can’t sell my body. You can’t!"
They don’t have to say anything to let me know the truth. They can do anything they want. Out here, they have all the power.
A black door opens. They push me inside, and I'm face to face with another alien. This one has green and glowing eyes, much like the one I first met. His throat is heavily scarred, and when he speaks, his voice sounds like shards of glass have been permanently lodged inside his vocal cords.
"Take off your clothes," he says.
The guards cut my chains with bolt cutters. I can't control my breathing. They push my timid body forward. Cameras watch my every move.
Another alien, much older, sits at a table in the back of the room, taking notes. His green skin sags and emits a foul odor.
"Let me go, and my team will show you mercy," I say.
The massive alien walks forward, lifting a fist into the air. He swings it down, hitting my cheek. I collapse onto the cement floor.
My elbows hit near a small pool of blood on the ground. It’s someone else’s blood.
"Shouldn't talk," he growls. "Strip and play nice or we will end your suffering with death.”
I crawl and nurse my hand over the growing welt around my cheek. My jaw trembles as the pain solidifies into a massive migraine.
I do what he asks. I take off every article of clothing, but I stop at my panties when I notice an embarrassing stain of wetness dampen the center. It grows as I start to urinate.