4. Georgiana

When I see the cash I think, Either this is fake or this isn’t a budget production. Most likely billionaires have set this up for their own entertainment. “Do I really get to keep all of that money if I play along?” I heard Germans have a strange sense of humor, but I didn’t think it would be this strange. “How do you have so much money? How much is in there?”

The grey man hands me a receipt from the bank. He is offering me 200,000 Swiss Francs in 100 Franc notes. And it’s in this slim suitcase. That’s more than 200,000 US dollars. That would be enough for me to pay back my student loans, credit cards, and still have a lot left over to start a new life debt free.

“Why do you have Swiss francs?” I ask, relieved he’s speaking English now, but it’s odd he doesn’t have any trace of an accent.

“It’s a good currency. I heard it was the best on Earth.”

Patriotism runs through me. “The US dollar is the best on Earth, but I’ll still take Swiss Francs if it’s the prize money.”

He gives me a quizzical look, but I like the way one of his eyebrows raises when he does it so I let it go. Despite being grey he’s handsome. He has an impressive jaw line and the kind of thin long eyes that make him appear stoic.

“Never mind. Whatever the currency, I’ll take the money if I win. What are the rules? How were we selected? Who’s sponsoring this? And how long will this game last? Who are the other competitors?”

“I don’t know. But I promise you, you will get to keep the money if you convince the alien border patrol that we are married.”

“Okay. Are they going to give us a test? How will they know if we are married or not? Do I need to paint myself grey too?”

“No. You can be yourself. And yes, they are going to give us a test. So we need to come up with a plausible story of how we came to be married.”

Excited by the possibility of winning so much cash, I begin thinking out loud. “How could I have met and married an alien? We could have met at a cosplay convention, I suppose.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“What?” I look him up and down. “Did you choose to be an alien? Or did they tell you, ‘This is the game and if you want to play this is your character?’”

“I didn’t choose to be an alien. I am an alien. This isn’t a game.”

“Okay,” I say thinking, He’s really in character. “No offense, but I’m glad I’m myself. Well, mostly myself. I normally don’t wear a cloak or my hair like this.”

“Your hair is one of the reasons I chose you. It’s beautiful.”

“Because it’s blonde?”

“Because it’s braided in the traditional style as an invitation to suitors.”

“Excuse me? An invitation to suitors? Are you a time traveler as well?” I put a hand up to my hair. When he doesn’t say anything more I continue, “Thank you, I guess it’s part of my costume too.” I wonder if the woman who sold me the green cloak had something to do with my being chosen to participate in this game. I don’t see any cameras, but cameras can be hidden anywhere. Suddenly a thought occurs to me, “Are you taking your role so seriously because this is more than just a fun game? Are sadistic billionaires funding this? Are we going to die if we don’t play along?” I’ve heard urban legends about such games.

“Again, I have no idea what you are talking about. I cannot stress this enough; this is not a game. If you want that money.” He points to the suitcase, “you must help me get off planet Earth by pretending to be my wife. Now we must come up with a story. I could have met you…” he trails off.

“How? What kind of work do people do in the galaxy?” I ask, looking for a creative answer.

“More importantly, what do humans do in the galaxy?”

“The same as aliens, I suppose.”

He shakes his head.

“This is all pretend, what difference does it make? I want to be an intergalactic diplomat or someone important.”

“Our story has to sound reasonable,” he says and points to the money. “Humans would never hold such high positions in the galaxy.”

I’m annoyed that even in this fantasy we are creating he wants to put me down. I assume this is some misogynist sci-fi bro thing, but I want the money so I’ll play along. “Fine, what do you think is a believable story then?”

“How about I rescued you from being sold as a sex slave to a species of aliens known as ‘Octopods’ at a space station called ‘Gala.’”

“Seriously? That’s pretty detailed for a fictional story you just came up with. And a bit kinky as well.”

“It sounds good to me.”

“Fine, then what?” I’m going to let him live out this fantasy. Why not? I think he’s good looking underneath all of that grey paint. And who knows what might happen after we complete this game? That is, if he’s not completely chauvinistic. But for now, I’ll let him get away with one red-flag in this fictional sci-fi story.

“Then you lived with me and we married in secret.” His green eyes search mine. “What?”

“What do you mean ‘what?’ The last part is vague and disappointing. Obviously, our marriage didn’t mean much to you.”

He smiles and I’m immediately charmed against my better judgment. “Sorry. I assure you; our marriage means everything to me. Now for some more mundane details, how old are you?”

“Twenty six. And you?”

He hesitates for a second as if he’s doing math. “Thirty five, give or take a few in Earth years.”

“Oh, I meant Earth years too, of course,” I say, trying to take all this seriously. “Are you Swiss?”

“No. I’m not from this planet. I’ve told you that. Why would you ask if I’m Swiss?”

“The money. But you don’t have an accent, most French or German speakers have an accent, even if it’s slight. Are you American?”

“I told you I’m not from Earth. I gave you a translator so that you can understand me. That’s why you hear me without an accent. Everything you hear is translated into your native language. You will only hear foreign words or accents if there is not an approximate translation, which is exceedingly rare.”

“If you want to go full-on into your role to win this game that’s fine by me. You were very convincing with the so-called ‘translator.’” I can’t help but run a hand through my hair where he supposedly put it. I realize it’s all in my mind because I can’t feel anything. “Are you a professional actor?”

“No. I am an alien. This is not a game.”

“Okay, I see you’re going for the whole method acting thing. How long do you think this game is going to last? Did the people running this tell you?”

“It’s not a game. I reckon it should only take us a day to get through border control with Alliance Force if we are successful. Once we are on our way to the Empire, I will make an excuse and send you back to Earth directly. This should only take a week at most, but two or three weeks if we are delayed.”

“You don’t know for sure? You must have met the people running it?” Then that sinister thought occurs to me again. “Are we going to die if we don’t participate? Is that why you’re so eager to jump into your role and not break character?”

He doesn’t answer me, so I take that as a ‘yes’ and that he’s probably not allowed to talk about it. He must have been threatened. He did paint himself grey. And there’s a lot of money here and a nice cabin we are using for this farce.

I swallow hard. This might be a lot more serious than I first realized. I begin repeating our story back to him, “So you saved me from being sold to Octopus aliens. Then we married in secret. But why in secret? Were you embarrassed to be married to me because I was going to be a sex slave?”

“Alliance and humans couldn’t legally marry at that time.”

“’Alliance’ who are the Alliance? I don’t know much about sci-fi. You might have picked the wrong girl.”

“You’re not a girl. You said you were 26 years old.”

“I am. Never mind. You really aren’t American are you?”

“I told you I’m not. I am not from Earth.”

“Right. Now who are the Alliance?”

“The name of my people. It’s what we call ourselves, the Alliance Empire. We are located in what humans call the ‘Cygnus constellation of the Milky Way.’”

“It’s all Greek to me. I don’t even know where Earth is located in the galaxy.”

He raises an eyebrow. “The Orion Arm? Ring any bells?”

“Nope.” I shake my head. “Don’t look at me like that. You have to take astronomy classes if you want to learn about the galaxy.”

“This information is accessible to every human. You never once thought it was important enough to find out where your planet was located in the galaxy?”

“Why? I never plan on leaving the planet and I’ve never seen an alien.”

He holds up his hands in the air. “I am an alien. And you are agreeing to leave the planet with me for money. You should know your galactic address…” he stops short of saying whatever he was going to say and pauses. “Now back to our story. We married in secret…”

I interject, “We’re so naughty breaking galactic laws for love. Then what? How did I end up back on Earth?”

“I was blackmailed. I was going to be exposed and I didn’t want to risk either of us being executed, so I sent you home to Earth to keep you safe for the time being. But I promised you that I’d return when I could be sure you’d be safe in the Empire.”

“What’s changed now that it’s safe for me to return?”

“The laws regarding humans and Alliance citizens marrying has changed and I killed the person blackmailing me.”

“I don’t think we should say that to the alien border patrol. No law enforcement officer looks kindly on killing.”

“It was a legal death.”

“Was it really legal, though? Unless you’re an executioner at a prison, I don’t think murder is ever legal.” I wonder if he’s a serial killer and this is a game he’s set up because he’s the billionaire.

“Duels to the death with swords are legal in the Alliance Empire.”

“Oh okay, we really are going full on world-building here. A technologically superior race that still settles arguments by duels with swords.” I curb the rest of my sarcastic comment. I don’t know who put us here, but by the somber way this man is treating this game, I should do the same. I don’t want to die for a few billionaires’ entertainment or for this particular billionaire’s entertainment. I’d rather win and have the money and he might even be crazy enough to let that happen. He did paint himself grey and go through the trouble of abducting me to play out this fantasy.

“Back to our story. I killed the man extorting me in a legal duel, then I returned to Earth to retrieve you, my wife.”

“Fine. I’ll remember. What’s your name by the way? I should probably know if we’re going to be married.”

He hesitates for a second. “Imperial Fleet Reserve Commander Axl of Imperial House Zu, Capital City, Capital Planet, Alliance Empire.” He motions to his silver necklaces. It says exactly that on them. This is odd. I could’ve sworn by the firelight they looked like the writing from the Voynich Manuscript.

“More world-building. It can’t be too much. I have a fairly good memory, but when I get nervous, I can’t think.”

“Titles are especially important in the Empire. You must remember to use them and at the very least, you must remember my title.”

“I’ll do my best. I can’t make any promises.” At least he’s not calling himself a wizard.

“What’s your name?”

“Georgiana Smith. My friends call me ‘Georgie.’” When he gives me a strange look I further explain, “My mother was a huge Jane Austen fan.”