Chapter 12

Helga

I'm grateful to still be in this metal box. I've seen some of the other men on this vessel, and they seem to be human, alien, or a hybrid mix of the two. None of them seem overly friendly, and a few of them hate me with a vengeance.

A young human-looking woman brings me food and water every day. She won't tell me her name. She says it doesn't matter. She says it in a matter-of-fact way like I'm so beneath her. I still try to make myself as likable as possible to the few people I interact with. Today when she comes, I ask, "Were you taken from Earth like me?"

She shakes her head. "I was born on another planet. I've never set foot on the planet my mother's mother came from. She was abducted. Not like you though."

"I'm sorry to hear that."

"Why are you sorry?" She seems defensive. "Earth is a backward place. I was lucky not to be born there."

"It can be backward," I agree. As a human rights lawyer, I've certainly seen the worst humanity can do in terms of war and the lowest levels of poverty people can be subjected to live in. She hands over the food and water, and I ask, "What's going to happen to me? The same thing that happened to your mother's mother?" I try to make my situation personal to her.

She makes eye contact with me. Her brown eyes give me sympathy for the first time. "My captain is angry with Alliance Force and wants to punish Commander Fox. You'll be sold as a slave at Gala. If you're lucky, you'll suffer the same fate as my mother's mother. You'll be kept as a pet and bred with other humans."

"That sounds like a death sentence."

"It can be," she admits. "But if you're clever, you'll do whatever you have to do to survive and then escape when you get the chance. That's what my mother's mother did."

"You know the galaxy well," I say, trying to keep her talking. "Do you have any more advice for me?"

"Remain calm. If you act like a wild animal at auction, you'll be treated like a wild animal, and then you'll attract the worst kind of buyers. There are things much more terrible in the galaxy than being an Alliance man's pet."

"Isn't Commander Fox Alliance?" I ask making sure I'm getting these alien organizations right.

"Yes, but it's against the law to keep human pets and he's on the side trying to stop it."

"Then why are you punishing him through me? Don't you want to stop the abduction of humans?" I ask trying to make sense of all this, knowing full well that life is usually contradictory, especially when groups of people are barely surviving themselves.

The woman seems momentarily stumped.

"Was your Echo luring women to sell as pets?" I ask.

"They all agreed. It's not the same."

"People can't agree to what they don't understand and there are certain things that we as humans have decided you're not allowed to do."

I have her attention now. As much as she pretended to despise Earth this woman is clearly interested in what we do.

"For example you're not allowed to let yourself be eaten by another, even if you make a legal contract and you both agree," I tell her citing the famous case.

She makes a face. "This is why I was lucky not to be born on Earth."

"But you understand. Echo luring women off Earth wouldn't be legal, not by human laws. Basically because humans can't comprehend what they're agreeing to."

The young woman thinks about this for a second and I admire her for not shouting, ‘no' and running off. It means she's not been brainwashed but just not considered it from a different angle. "It's a tough situation," she says after a minute. "Life in the galaxy is better than the life these women would have had on Earth."

"Not necessarily. You can't be the judge of that. And definitely not if they might be sold to aliens who are going to do medical experiments on them."

"We don't sell the women that come with us at Gala. We have private Alliance buyers. They go to good places."

Now I ask the question, "Would you go there yourself?"

"No. But I'm different."

"If you wouldn't go there or send a daughter, sister, or friend there, then it's probably illegal."

"I don't want to talk to you anymore," the young woman says abruptly. "Stay quiet and calm on Gala and pray to the goddesses an Alliance man buys you."

A shudder passes through me and I answer, "I will."

"Good. We'll arrive tomorrow, maybe tonight. It depends. Just so you know. So you can get mentally prepared for your new life."

The woman leaves and I eat my plain food wondering what's in store for me and whether or not I'll ever make it back to Earth. I try not to think about Fox and wonder if he's abandoned me. Perhaps there's just no way he can get to me. How many of my clients were forced to leave loved ones to their fate? Too many. And it didn't mean they didn't love those people. Life is difficult on Earth. I can't imagine how complex it is on a galactic level. So I can't blame Fox for not coming for me. It might be physically impossible for him to do so.

I'm asleep when they arrive to collect me. The same man who carried Ella away wakes me. I recognize his rancid stench before I open my eyes. He grabs my arm roughly. "It's time, Helga."

I try to get to my feet so that he's not dragging me along the cold floor. I realize now how warm it was in my little prison. Outside my cell, I'm shivering. I need a jacket. But I doubt I'll get one. I'm led out and other men from the ship flank me. I've seen most of them at one time or another. No one says anything to me as we prepare to walk off the ship. I feel a tenseness among them, so I dare to speak. Maybe I can change my fate in the final hour.

"You don't have to do this. Fox hardly even knows me. He may not even care you've got me."

One of the men says in a low voice, "An eye for an eye."

As solid automatic doors open before us, I'm struck by a wave of organic repulsive smells that my stomach can't handle. I vomit on my bare feet as the men hold me up by my elbows. When I have nothing left in my stomach, I wipe my mouth and then brush off the vomit from my body as best I can. I wipe my hands on my dirndl, it's filthy anyway, and then wipe my eyes as best as I can to not get anything in them. I swallow hard, my throat raw from the stomach acid that just passed through it. Then I repeat what I said before, "You don't have to do this. I've done nothing to you. You'll carry this guilt of selling an innocent woman for the rest of your lives."

None of the men respond and I can tell by their hard expressions they're uncomfortable. But still we continue walking. The floor is uneven and slimy. I would slip if the men weren't holding me between them. I don't even want to think about what I'm walking through with my bare feet, but my mind won't obey me to stop my imagination from running wild with all kinds of microscopic alien worms crawling into the bottom of my feet and nestling themselves under my toenails. The thought makes me want to pull my feet up so the men have to carry me, but I suspect they would only drag me. So I try to think of something else as we walk. I notice the outer men in our group have their weapons drawn, and I assume the small green light radiating from their weapons means armed, making me wonder if we might be shot at at any moment.

As we walk through this busy station, a lot of the strange-looking aliens are stopping to stare at us. Others are not only stopping but aggressively yelling things that are incomprehensible to me. If I weren't so terrified, I'd be fascinated by all their different shapes, colorings, and appendages. To know we are not alone in the galaxy, is incredible, but given the circumstances, I'm in a daze and can hardly take it all in. I'm shaking, and it's not just because I'm freezing.

I don't know if my captors know what these aliens are saying either. If they do, they don't acknowledge our hecklers. And as far as I can tell, we're the only humans on the station but I don't know whether that's a good or bad thing. The men surrounding me keep walking as if they know exactly where they're going. We must walk for twenty minutes at least. My legs are aching after so much inactivity from the last few days in the box, but the men don't allow me to rest or slow down.

"Keep walking. Trust me, you don't want to slow down here."

Once we do finally stop, it's in front of a silver-colored man, who, like many others here, has a little two-story glass shop filled with living beings. The little man and my captors are talking. I don't understand anything they're saying, but they all must have translators of some kind because even to my untrained ear, it's clear they aren't speaking the same language.

Finally, I'm literally handed over to this silver alien. My captors leave, and only one gives me a backward glance. I repeat what I said before to their backs as they walk away, "You don't have to do this. Save yourself from this guilt."

But none of the humans turn back for me.

The silver alien takes my arm and leads me into a dark room. He shuts the door. There's nothing here. I sit on the floor in exhaustion. For the moment I'm safe, and I should try to conserve my energy. After a few minutes, I wonder if I should try and escape. I stand up and run my hands along the walls and floor. There's nothing here but a little light. I turn it on and look at it. I stare at it for so long I begin to hallucinate things. I let this play into my fantasy just like A Little Match Girl, and I imagine Fox rescuing me and us getting married in a beautiful ceremony. I daydream about getting my dream job where I'm not plagued by nightmares of all the people I couldn't help. I imagine having a small family and one of them having Fox's red hair. I let myself stare at the light and live these fantasies in my imagination to pass the time and give myself hope that I will get out of this. And I will see Fox again.