Dredge

by Lula Monk

  The red-eyed woman gave her a sorrowful look. “There are a few hundred aliens on the other side of that wall that would disagree with you.”

  “So? I’m not property just because someone decided to snatch me up from my bed. And I’ll tell that to any alien that even tries to sell me.”

  Samantha leapt to her feet and got right in Clea’s face, her eyes cold and serious. Clea put her hands on the alien’s shoulders, ready to shove her away; her blood roared in her ears. This was going to be a great fight.

  But then the woman spoke, and all the fight ran right out of Clea.

  “I came here with a girl like you,” the red-eyed woman whispered in her ear, her voice strained with nervous energy. “Debra. She was a fighter too. Those phaser guns the tentacled aliens carry? Turned Debra into a pile of ash on the floor in seconds.”

  Clea lowered her hands, pulling away from Samantha. “You came here? Like me?”

  The red-eyed woman stared into Clea’s eyes. “Three weeks ago, I was in Dallas asleep in my apartment. I woke up in a cage.”

  Cold sweat broke out on the back of Clea’s neck just thinking about the cages on the transport vessel.

  “If you’re one of us, why do you look like…” Clea gestured to Samantha’s stomach and face, her weird glowing eyes. “That?”

  The red-eyed woman took in a deep breath. “That is what I am here to talk to you about. Please, take a seat.”

  Clea did as the woman asked her, intrigued to hear what she had to say. What if she was telling the truth? What if the strange red-eyed thing sitting across the table was a human?

  She had to know the truth. Her father always told her knowledge was power, and she was going to need a whole shit ton of power to get herself out of this mess. That meant staying chill and learning as much as she could.

  “Like it or not,” said Samantha, “you are now the property of Galactic Continuity. It’s a company that caters to aliens from across the universe who need to… save their species.”

  Clea looked from Samantha’s face to the crimson glow of her belly. She’d thought the woman was just pudgy, but . . . Several puzzle pieces began sliding together in Clea’s mind. The woman wasn’t bloated or pudgy… she was pregnant.

  “Save their species how?” Clea asked, though she was pretty sure she knew the answer.

  “You have been selected and brought to the Hub,” said Samantha, “for breeding.”

  That fight or flight feeling was back, and Clea had always been one to choose fight. Her hands flexed in her lap, balling into fists and then opening wide. Her palms were sweaty, adrenaline coursing through her veins. She needed to do something, to move. She stood and started pacing the small room.

  “And that’s what happened to you?” she asked Samantha.

  The red-eyed woman nodded. “And it will happen to you, too.”

  “No way. No way I’m gonna let some slimy bastard put his dick in me. And a baby?” Clea scoffed and shook her head. “Nah.”

  “Your options are limited, Clea.” Samantha rubbed at her glowing eyes again. “Women who are not purchased for breeding end up in the Entertainment Sector.”

  Clea shrugged. “Entertainment doesn’t sound so bad. I can entertain. Sounds a fuck load better than being a breeder.”

  Samantha shook her head, her face disgusted. “Trust me, you do not want to be allocated to the entertainment sector.”

  “Why not?”

  “As a breeder, you have to expose your body to one creature: the alien who purchases you. In the Entertainment Sector, you’ll be required to couple with any and every client who wants you, sometimes more than one client at a time. I’ve heard women who’ve said they’ve had to, uh, entertain twenty to thirty clients in one rotation.”

  “How long is a rotation?”

  “Twenty-four hours.”

  Clea gulped. Breeding was suddenly sounding like the much, much better choice.

  “And there’s no way around this, huh? No chance of getting out of here before I get sold?”

  “No. None.”

  “Fuck,” Clea whispered under her breath.

  This was bullshit. There had to be something she could do, some stunt she could pull. Maybe she could find a way to kill the alien who dared to buy her, then use whatever resources were at her disposal to hijack a spaceship and blow out of here. Her plan seemed like a long shot, but she had to try something. She needed more intel, though.

  “After I get purchased, what happens?” she asked Samantha.

  “After you have been claimed, you will be relocated to a room much like this one,” here she gestured to the small, cramped metal space they presently occupied, “in the Breeding Sector.”

  Clea’s heart plummeted. “So, the alien who purchases me won’t just, I don’t know, take me back to his home planet immediately?”

  Samantha shook her head. “Galactic Continuity provides breeding rooms for clients to test out their products. That way, if clients purchase human females who are barren, the auction block is just a quick stroll away, and they can try again.”

  Clea felt like she wanted to vomit. Her eyes bore into Samantha’s. “How can you talk about your own people that way? Like we’re just stuff that can be bought and sold, that can be ‘claimed?’” She flexed her fists again. “We’re people, Samantha. Not products.”

  The red-eyed woman rubbed her eyes again, as though they were causing her pain.

  “I understand how you feel. Truly, I do. I was much like you, when I first arrived.” She glanced around the room, as though looking for something. Seeming satisfied at what she did or didn’t find, Samantha leaned across the table, her hand clutching Clea’s. Her voice dropped to a whisper. “But that was before everything changed. Before I had a plan.”

  A sharp knock rang out on the other side of one of the metal walls. Clea’s heartbeat pounded in her skull.

  “What plan?” she asked Samantha.

  The strange woman sent her a wide-eyed look, shaking her head. She lifted her finger to her lips in the universal signal for silence.

  The banging sounded on the wall again, but this time, the wall changed. A small hole opened in the middle of the metal, growing and stretching until it was large enough for a person to walk through.

  It was a door, the one Clea had been searching for but couldn’t find.

  “Come,” commanded the tentacled guard from the corridor.

  With a smile, Samantha stood, her hand stretched out to Clea as though they were old friends. Not knowing what else to do, Clea accepted her hand and let the red-eyed pregnant woman pull her to her feet. Samantha pulled her in for a fierce hug, her head buried in Clea’s locks.

  “There’s a way out of all of this,” Samantha whispered quickly, her voice strained. “Just play along, and I will get word to you on the Rim.”

  Clea had no clue what the Rim was, but there wasn’t time to ask. The alien guard in the corridor banged his gun against the edge of the portal.

  “Come,” it commanded again.

  Samantha gave her one last sorrowful smile as the Ceph wrapped a tentacle around Clea’s wrist and pulled her down the corridor.

  The feel of the alien’s suction cups on her bare flesh made Cleo’s skin crawl, but she scarcely noticed the sensation.

  Her mind whirled with all this new information. She’d wanted intel on this place, but she might have gotten more than she’d bargained for.

  No.

  She’d gotten exactly what she needed. She knew what was going on, where she was going, and what the expected outcome would be. If she got purchased as a breeder.

  Lord, please let someone pick me to breed.

  Her feet lagged in the corridor, but the Ceph yanked her arm and kept her moving.

  Had she really just prayed to be a breeder?

  This entire experience was addling her brain.

  Clea shook her head. She had to keep her wits about her, had to pull it together. The red-eyed woman had said she had a plan, a wa
y to get Clea and the others off the Hub. She didn’t know if she could trust the glowing woman. Not yet. But Clea was determined to do what she could to save herself.

  Even if that meant breeding with an alien.

  As the Ceph dragged her up a set of steps and onto a stage, Clea squared her shoulders, her chin tilted high. She squeezed her lids tight and took a deep breath.

  She had this. She could do it. Hell, she could do anything if it meant getting her ass out of space and back to Washington.

  Clea opened her eyes and beheld the crowd of aliens below the stage, all eagerly chattering amongst themselves and looking lustily at her and the other two women standing beside her. The sight of all the strange creatures before her made her gut bubble, and she had the sudden urge to go to the bathroom.

  Just breathe, Clea.

  The red-eyed woman had said there were thirty women she had to talk to for ‘orientation.’ That meant Clea and the others were going to have to stand up here on this stage and get ogled at until twenty-seven more women came out of their meetings with Samantha.

  Then the auction would start.

  Clea looked out at the crowd once more, scanning the sea of faces. She was surprised to find that so many of the aliens looked… human. Their faces, at least.

  The sight of one alien in particular made her heart skip a beat, but not from attraction. Hell no. This guy had the stance of a warrior, and his face, while handsome, was marred by scars from old wounds. His brown hair was cropped close to his skull like a soldier’s, and it was evident he was muscular beneath his long brown coat. But none of these things were what made Clea’s heart thunder in her chest. What had drawn Clea’s eyes to this particular alien was the thing she’d been afraid of since her family’s Mississippi house burned down when she was eight:

  The alien’s body was swirling with thick red and orange flames.

  As if sensing Clea’s inspection, he looked up, his eyes instantly locking onto hers.

  Fuck.

  Other Books by Lula Monk

  (Click the image to read the blurbs.)

  * * *