5 Cylene

A large, humanoid shape enters the shadowy depths of my sleep. It comes closer to me but doesn't speak. I want to ask who they are and what they want, but I cannot speak.

I try to back up but find only a wall behind me. The figure moves closer until its features are distinguishable as masculine, powerfully so. The ridges and valleys of his muscles spark electricity through my body.

Light pressure glides up my side then moves around my back. Warm breath falls over my neck. His touch travels south, and a new hunger blossoms in me. I have never been touched with such confidence or respect.

His caress is strained but respectful like he's holding back. But I'm eager to satisfy the burning desire building between my legs. His fingers slip lower and lower until they glide over my clit, igniting a tingling sensation that sends heat coursing through my core.

He plunges meaty fingers into me, repeatedly, until I'm a mess of euphoric quivers riding into the sun.

The high bursts into a sparkling shower, and the male is gone.

Consciousness eases my mind back into the light.

"Ambiguous but single male," someone says. "Prefers to face them."

"Monochrome category then," another voice replies. "White, Silver, pearl, chrome, or black. Just get these last few questions answered."

"Hey." Someone nudges me. "I have to get you to answer a few questions."

I lick my lips and open my eyes, basking in my satiated state and telling myself that I'm just hearing things.

A young woman removes a device from my forehead, then proceeds around the room and does the same to other women who lie on med beds like me.

"How did I get here? Is this a dream?"

An older woman beside me motions to her tablet. "They transport you here after the ride up from Earth. It takes a while to process out the sleep aids. The shuttle pods hover themselves in here and back out again, once you're on the bed.

"Anyway, so I have your physical. Good egg count, healthy uterus and mammary glands. Healthy weight, good written test scores, oral, and personality. We've got your instinctual mating preferences recorded—"

My stomach clenches when I realize my dream wasn't private at all.

"But the Abr committee wants two more answers from you. Would you rather sleep on a loose pile of gravel or in a loose pile of twigs?"

I force my stiff body to sit up. I have no interest in noisy twigs or getting poked all night, and it makes me wonder what kinds of beds these alien men have. "What kind of gravel?"

"Pea gravel."

I wrinkle my nose. "I guess that. At least it's round and not pokey."

She marks my answer. "And if you had to choose between saving your family or your friends from sure death, what would you choose?"

The bruises on my neck throb, and I pull the collar of my sweatshirt up to hide them. "My friends are my family. So I can't answer that as one or the other."

She taps something on her screen then looks up. "Okay. Please follow the other girls into the locker room. They will assign you a race uniform and your armbands there."

I grab my backpack from the nearby chair, glad to know someone remembered it while I was out and get in line behind the others who filter in through the doorway. When I walk into the locker room, I'm certain there are several hundred participants at least. Women enter from multiple doorways in long lines that snake by tables with delivery tubes. The room is massive and filled with the sound of excited chatter.

When I finally approach the counter, the woman in a sharp blue uniform trimmed in silver, bearing the Abr badge on her chest looks me over, focusing on my neck. "Please scan your left hand."

I place it on the black glass.

"Cylene Monrova?"

"Yes."

She firmly taps the screen and, seconds later, a uniform rises in a canister inside the delivery tube. "I'm giving you a high collar suit. Some species that enter this race have an inclination toward trauma bonding and won't go after the mate that stirs them if they discover an injured female. Others will avoid you completely."

"Why even let me participate then?" I ask.

"We strive to be an equal opportunity organization. We also know that for some human women, this is their only chance at a better life. What medical innovations we offer to the galaxy, we sometimes make up for in shitty treatment of each other."

A red light flashes on her screen and a set of silver armbands rises from the countertop.

I take them and continue to the changing area. The lockers are open, so I select one in a corner away from the others and set my bag inside. I strip with my back to the other girls who talk about their hopes and dreams of the males who will catch them.

I have been caught by my father, by Tathe. I struggle to understand why they are excited but am glad to know many of them plan to be easy pickings. It makes my chances of winning much better.

Most of the eager women wear pink armbands. Some talk of other aliens they've slept with and how they plan to snag one species over another. A few girls have armbands in blue. They talk quietly and calmly get ready.

As I climb into my skin-tight full-body race suit, a woman walks up to me in her suit with white armbands. I am the only one with silver, as far as I can tell.

"You're in it for the money too?" She has hazel-green eyes and ashen hair and stands an inch shorter than me but with far more confidence.

"How did you know?"

"Armband color tells the aliens what we're like in a nutshell. Pinks are easy pickings, more for the suave, cocky, loose males that just want someone to screw and spoil. Which is all fun and games, but for real—I want a challenge. He's gotta work for it, you know?"

She shrugs. "My sister works for Abr. Lots of women do after they've finished the race. Anyway, doozy of bruises you got. I wager we're going to be solid competition for the money. I mean, getting a hunky alien husband is still on my bucket list. But so is a million bucks. I'm Ihna."

Her eagerness to chat has me stuttering as I try to keep up. It's been a long time since I had much of a conversation with anyone besides my family.

"Cylene." I have a chance to learn more of what I'm getting myself into and don't want to waste it with her. "I had a bad home life. I didn't really get to study up before I got here. What else can you tell me?"

She leans up against the lockers and hugs herself. "The race is ceremonial, really, but about fifty percent end up staying with their initial match. The rest of the race days help us talk to others, explore options, and negotiate trades to get the mate we want.

"If you get caught, you can still say no. If you win and wish to be open to a mate in case their choice doesn't work out, you can stay in the game. If you still want to find a mate, you lose the money. If you try and don't, then you keep your winnings."

I close my locker, zip up the front of my suit, and Velcro my armbands to my sleeves. "Any tips?"

She arches a brow. "Share them with my competition?"

I hang my head. "You're right. I get it."

Ihna swats my arm. "I'm kidding. Look, the best path to escape is toward the mountain. Not a lot of women have the arm strength to climb it. But if you make it that far and he's still on your ass, you'll have to descend it toward the lake. The envirodome on the lunar surface isn't all encapsulating yet. There's a drop-off on the backside. The shield generators have limits. So that means there's a finite amount of space to run around here."

"Thanks."

"What are you running from, anyway?" Ihna asks.

I shake my head and watch the dressed women walk into a buffet area adjacent to the locker rooms. My stomach grumbles with raging hunger. "You don't want to know."

"So whoever they are, they'd be pissed if they knew you were here?" Ihna asks.

"Yeah."

"Rebellious. I like it."

Not quite. I want to be free, and Ihna is solid competition. Nevertheless, we stick together in the buffet line. With two hours to the race, there's time to eat and digest before we run, but it's hard to hold back from devouring everything when I see the spread of food.

"Don't want to overload yourself," Ihna remarks. "It'll slow you down."

Her warning tone suggests I have too much on my plate. I reluctantly pass the rest of the desserts. The drink table has everything under the sun except water. I grab a cup of orange soda, something I loved as a teen when mom and I had our little place at the edge of town. One sip is all it takes to make me smile and feel a little better. The rush of sugar helps ease the nervous jitters in my muscles.

Ihna sits at a small table by a window overlooking the race environment below. I join her and admire the terraformed surface of the moon. The meadow lies several stories below, filled with wildflowers, tiny huts, and tree houses with bridges the zigzag through the edge of a deep green forest.

"Hard to believe this one project spurred our colonization of other worlds and is the whole reason we connected with the galaxy." Ihna stares dreamily out at the stars as I plan my route to the mountain. "Every year or so, we upgrade the shield technology and advance our ability to grow our presence in space."

A group of women cheer nearby and laugh like they're sharing a joke.

We are a bubble of calm in the chaos.

"Whatcha gonna use the money for?" Ihna asks.

"Start my own self-defense club for women," I reply as I dig into my food. "You?"

She purses her lips and looks into the room at women who talk with others like they're all long-time friends. "Want to start an outreach program to help bring medical aid to solar systems that haven't acquired the technology or skills. I want to help educate them on how we built our system and help them learn to build their own for their anatomy."

I like the idea, and it tells me Ihna is a giving person who is likely trustworthy. I think we would have been friends if we'd met outside of the race.

A woman in a blue Abr uniform walks up to us. "Pretty sure she just wants to see all the alien dicks out there and get her grubby little sister hands on them."

"Ohni," Ihna whines before chucking a berry at the woman's head. "You had your turn! Now get out of here!"

The woman winces then smiles at me. By her hazel eyes and similar cheekbones, she's undoubtedly Ihna's sister. "I wanted to warn you that the males have departed the spaceport. They'll be landing about thirty minutes ahead of schedule."

"Isn't this against the rules?" I whisper.

Ohni lifts a shoulder and waggles her head. "Not really. Because apparently they always do it this way. Keeps you on the edge and the viewers on TV at the edge of their seats."

"TV?" I stammer.

"Oh, yeah. There are cameras in public spaces. The show has commentators who explain what's happening. "You really didn't know?"

"No."

"Well, now you do. Anyway, my sister likes predictable things and schedules. So I wanted to give her a heads up." Ohni's eyes fall to my armbands. "Ooh, you're a silver? Hard case, then. Doubt anyone will pick you. Might run a bit slower if you want a mate."

Another female Abr worker snags Ohni by the sleeve and drags her away. "Stop harassing the contestants! Besides, there are always a few males who crave the challenge."

My stomach turns, and I push my food away. I get the feeling very few contestants are in it for the money.

"Don't be like that." Ihna hovers her fingers over our plates and then selects a few items. "These digest fast and have lots of nutrients."

I take a few bites but resort to simply finishing my soda. I'm in knots over the results of the next few hours.

My heart pounds in nervous anticipation. I think I've made a terrible mistake coming here. But I'm in it too far to back out now.