by Robin Roseau
"There's no third choice. Hemlock, perhaps?"
"No. It didn't go well for Socrates."
"You know our history."
She inclined her head.
I sighed. "Challenge. Will you feel any guilt when I am dead?"
"You aren't going to die. You probably won't even get hurt. Accidents happen, but serious injury is rare, at least for the mating candidates. The warriors, on the other hand. Well, they get hurt, but not usually at the hands of the candidates."
"They fight over us."
"They do."
"Good. Let them."
She nodded. "Do you have questions?"
"What now? Do you let me out of the chair, and take me somewhere."
"We take you somewhere. And then we remove you from the chair. Now, sleep."
And just like that, I did.
* * * *
When I woke, it was slowly. I was lying on a bed. It was soft and warm, although as I became conscious, I realized I was entirely naked and completely uncovered.
Everything rushed in, and I sat up suddenly.
I was in a new cell, and this was clearly a cell. And I was blind as a bat. The visor was gone.
The room was small. I moved carefully, and I found the bed, and at the foot of the bed, a small table. That was where I found my clothes and glasses. I pulled them on quickly.
The light was dim, but there was enough to see. My cell was perhaps six feet wide and ten feet long. The bed was the only place to sit, discounting a toilet. There was s sink set into the wall beside the toilet.
Except for the wall at the end of the cell opposite the toilet, the walls were nondescript and appeared opaque. But the last wall was transparent, and I could see into the cells of several other women, some asleep, some sitting on their beds, staring straight ahead. Two were watching me.
"Hello!" I said. "How long have we been here?"
One of the women cupped her hand to her ear as if in an attempt to listen, then she clearly yelled back. I didn't hear a single sound.
I sighed.
I prowled the cell for a minute, but there wasn't anything to find. So I moved to the window and pressed against it. I wasn't the only woman looking around, and I took stock of my fellow captives.
One of the women was dressed in business clothes, including a pair of high heels. I wasn't sure they were going to be any better for her than my slippers. But the rest of us were in various forms of pajamas and bathrobes. Some of them were slightly more dressed than I was, but three were wearing significantly less. I realized most of them were taken from their homes the same way I was.
I was sure there were more women than I could see, including some to either side of me. I wondered how many of us there were.
I looked up. The ceiling outside my cell was much higher than the height of my cell -- or those of the other women. And I realized the larger room was two floors tall. In the dim light, I thought perhaps there was a walkway around the second floor.
And the ceiling of my cell was as clear as the front wall. Anyone on the catwalk above me could look down into my cell.
From what I could see, it appeared there were probably at least two aisles with cells on either side. The nearest wall aligned with the far edges of the cells across from mine, but looking the other way, there was enough room for another cluster of cells similar to the ones I could see.
"Bitches," I muttered. "Bastards."
I prowled around once more, but there was very little to do. I briefly considered exercising, but I grew petulant. I wasn't going to give the assholes the joy.
I wondered if I could grow fat and unattractive between now and whenever they sold me off to some other alien asshole. I wondered what the standard of beauty was for aliens. Not that I ever considered myself beautiful.
I moved to the bed and sat down with my back to the wall. I pulled my knees to my chest and stared at the wall.
I sat. I don't know for how long. I lay down and tried to sleep, but my body refused to cooperate. Eventually I sat up. I lay down on my back this time. That lasted a few minutes as I stared at the ceiling above me, and beyond it, the empty walkway.
I stood up and prowled. I used the facilities and washed.
I grew bored, bored, bored.
I wondered how secure my cage was. I walked to the glass wall, turned around, and began banging my heel against it, over and over. Thump. Thump. Thump. When the first foot began to hurt, I switched feet. Thump. Thump. Thump.
I didn't hear any of the women around me making similar noises. I looked over my shoulder, and several of the other women were watching me, although no one seemed to be duplicating my efforts.
I decided either our captors didn't care about what noise I made or couldn't even hear it. And I found no sign I was making headway in breaking my way out.
I hadn't really expected to.
I wondered where we were. I felt normal, I guess. I jumped, and I seemed to jump the same height I would expect. We couldn't be on the moon, as I would have jumped higher and taken longer to come down. The air seemed normal. Gravity seemed normal. I decided it was likely we were on Earth somewhere. Maybe we were still in the processing facility. But it was at the airport. Maybe they had flown us somewhere else.
I had no idea how long they had made me sleep. It could have been hours or weeks.
Ah, but if it had been weeks, my hair would have grown. I checked the hair on my head. It didn't seem any longer than before, but I hadn't been paying that close of attention.
There was hair on my legs, but not that much. It was more than stubble, but I hadn't become a wookie. I tried to remember when I had last shaved. Had it been the day before I was taken? It wasn't much more than two or three days. They had kept me at the airport for three days, and I didn't have much more than a week's growth, if even that.
It could be the same day, or a day or two later. No more.
It hadn't been weeks, unless the chair had seen to my hygiene at that level.
Some of the other women caught me checking my legs, and I noticed two check their own. We looked across at each other and shrugged.
I ran out of things I could think to do, and I went back to banging on the wall for a while. I grew bored with that and wondered if there was anything in the cell I could use to fashion a tool.
Or a weapon.
The bed was sturdy and appeared to be solid. I don't mean strong, I mean solid. I couldn't find any way to crawl underneath it to find springs. I couldn't move it, not even a little. When I lay on it, it was actually comfortable, with an integrated pillow.
I couldn't even start a pillow fight.
The toilet was formed out of the wall and was just as solid as the bed. The sink had no exposed plumbing, not even the faucet. It was an indentation in the wall, like a medicine cabinet without the glass door. Water dropped from the top of the indentation and collected in a sink below.
There were no pipes to break off and steal.
There was no towel. I'd been drying my hands on my robe, which annoyed me.
They had promised to return my clothes, and they had kept that promise. The robe included a belt. I could do something with the belt, although I didn't see how I could use it to break out of my cell. But a belt is similar to a rope, and a rope can be a weapon. Or a noose.
I could also make a noose from my pajama pants.
I thought it likely the situation would become untenable. I thought it unlikely I was going to free myself, and equally unlikely they aliens were going to let me go.
Given the choice of becoming some alien's sex slave or, well, the alternative, I was going to take the alternative.
But I wasn't done fighting yet.
Still, I wondered if they were monitoring us. I wondered what they would do if I knotted the belt around my neck. Would they stop me? Or would they consider my impending death just one fewer human on the planet?
I was pretty sure I knew which. I didn't think threatening to kill myself was going to get me
anywhere. So when I did it, I would just do it. There was no need for any more threats than I had already offered.
The boredom continued, and when I looked at the other women, I thought perhaps they had all come to the same conclusion. Of the ones I could see, they were all on their beds, some possibly sleeping and others staring at the wall.
I didn't see a single look of hope, and I didn't think I carried one, either.
I sat on the bed. I zoned out.
What else was there to do?
* * * *
The lights turned up. It was the only change in hours. I glanced out the door, and some of the other women had noticed the change. They -- like me -- were looking around.
I climbed to my feet and moved to the door. I looked both ways, but I didn't see any movement.
I went back to banging on the glass. It didn't accomplish anything. It didn't even make me feel better. But it gave me something to do, a way to express my displeasure.
I saw the food arrive. I had my back to the glass wall, kicking it with my heel, and so I noticed when a section of the wall beside the sink lifted, revealing a nook, and in the nook, a tray of food.
I stared at it for a while before I crossed the room to collect the tray. I moved to the bed, sat down, and examined my fare.
It was breakfast food. Eggs, bacon, toast, and juice again. I decided this must be breakfast, and thought it likely this was my fourth day of captivity.
I ate half the meal. I eyed what was left.
A half an egg, unwanted. One piece of toast, easily ignored. A bit more bacon. I popped that in my mouth. For all I knew, this was my last meal, and if it included bacon, that wasn't all bad.
I was left with the tray itself, the juice glass, one plate, and a fork, all of some material I couldn't identify.
I finished the last of the juice then stepped to the sink and rinsed the cup. Then, with everything I had, I threw the cup against the far wall.
It bounced off, but just like when I had tried it in the previous cell, nothing broke. I picked up the cup and began beating it against the glass wall.
It didn't do any good. For a while, the cup remained whole. But then it began to just fall apart in my hands. Not in shards. That might have given me a weapon. But it was like it was solid, frozen, and then just crumbled to dust.
I returned to the bed, worried the rest of the service pieces had done the same. I wouldn't have wanted egg all over the bed. Before my fears could become founded, I moved the plate into the nook, but I retained the tray and fork. Maybe they wouldn't fall apart unless I tried to beat on the wall.
The aliens waited for a while, but eventually they decided I'd returned everything I intended to return. The nook disappeared, becoming a blank section of wall again. And about ten minutes later, I could see the fork and tray begin to turn to dust.
At least I hadn't left them on the bed to make a mess.
I sat on the bed and went back to moping.
* * * *
I don't know how long the aliens were watching us before I noticed them. I was far from the first. I only noticed because some of the other women were watching the aliens. I followed their gaze, and I saw a few groups of aliens using the walkway over our cells. Most were looking down into the cells, moving to a different vantage point from time to time.
When I caught one looking at me, I offered a rude gesture. If he understood the gesture, he made no indication. Or she. I couldn't tell.
I decided I wasn't going to give them a show. Maybe they would grow bored of me. I moved to the bed and zoned out again.
* * * *
Well before lunch arrived, more aliens had been by, actually walking the corridor between the cells and gazing at the prisoners. I pretended not to notice but simply turned my back on them and leaned against the wall with my knees pulled to my chest.
Lunch arrived. I ate half of it and returned everything to the nook when I was done. I went back to the bed and gave the aliens my back.
It was some time after lunch that the next change arrived at my cell.
I didn't see the change arrive, but it came in the form of four humans. I didn't notice them until I heard the door form in the glass wall. I looked over my shoulder in time to see two men step into the cell.
They were big and burly, and one of them was holding a set of restraints.
"Fuck off," I said, turning away again.
The other two moved into the room, a pair of women. They moved to stand along the wall to my left, opposite the bed.
"Ma'am," one said. "It is time to come with us."
I glanced at her. "Do you enjoy your job helping to sell slaves?"
Her lips tightened. One point for Sapphire.
"You should all be ashamed of yourselves," I added. "You help make this happen. You've helped to kidnap all of us, and now you're going to sell us to the aliens."
"It's necessary," said the other woman.
"Said the woman who didn't volunteer herself." I looked at her. "What are you going to tell your daughters when it is time for their testing? Are you going to coach them to avoid being selected? Have you coached your sisters and your friends? I bet you have."
She offered a guilty look.
"Hypocrite," I added. "You all help to hide what they're doing from the rest of us. You all help them to enslave us, or at least some of us, and you hide behind platitudes such as, 'It's necessary'. Well, fuck all of you. You're cowards."
At that thought, I stood up and walked directly to the man with the restraints. "I'll show you courage, you slimy weakling."
He bristled at that.
"A real man wouldn't sell an innocent woman into slavery," I continued. "So I'm sure I'm not telling you anything you don't already know. You might be huge and physically strong, but you're a coward and a moral weakling."
"We've heard it all before, ma'am," the other man said. "You can save your words."
"Maybe if you hear it enough times, you'll do something about it." I studied him. "Although you're undoubtedly the same weakling this one is." I looked back at the first. "Are you going to hit me?"
"No, ma'am."
I looked at the restraints. "Perhaps you'll apply those with extra special care."
"We use care with all the candidates," he said. "No one here is going to abuse you. But I will ask you to physically cooperate. Please don't make us force you."
I nodded at the restraints. "In front or behind."
"In front."
I held out my wrists.
They bound and shackled me just like a felon in prison, my wrists latched together and bound to a chain around my waist. They applied shackles around my ankles, with the connecting chain suspended from the chain around my waist so it wouldn't drag along the floor. I could walk normally and didn't need to shuffle. I could even take normal size steps, but I wouldn't be able to run.
Where would I go?
"If I die today, my death is at your hands as if you wielded the knife yourself."
"You won't die today, ma'am," said one of the women. "You are being presented. The challenges begin tomorrow."
"And no one dies," said one of the men. "The candidates rarely get hurt. The ones who fight particularly well sometimes get bruised, but rarely anything worse than that." He looked me up and down. "You don't look like you know how to fight."
"I don't, but that won't stop me from trying."
"The champions get hurt."
"Good. I intend to do my best."
"Again, rarely do they get hurt by one of the candidates, except for the rare true fighter. We get the occasional black belt or former marine."
"They hurt each other," I said. "They fight over us."
"There are more champions than candidates."
"Good. Let them fight."
"It's our turn, ma'am," one of the women said. She stepped to my side and took one arm. The other woman took the other arm. And then one of the men stepped in front of me and pulled a hood over my head. At least he was gentle.
"I have a name," I said as I was escorted from my cell. I didn't try to fight them. "My name is Sapphire Fletcher. I have a mother. Her name is Rachel. My father's name is Jeff. I have a sister. Her name is Liz. I have friends. I have a job, a good job, although I'm only 25 and just starting my career. I will never see any of the people I love again. They will never see me again. They will never know what really happened to me."
No one said anything. They escorted my silently through whatever facility this was.
"Will they know when I die?" I asked. "Will they know I am never returning to them, even if I don't die? Will they ever learn about the evil you help to do today?"
I went on and on for the entire walk. If I scored any points, I couldn't tell.
I wondered if they would abuse me in thanks for my words. But not once did they let me bang into any walls or trip over my own feet.
But I knew when we arrived somewhere new. We passed through a doorway, and then the air felt a little different. We came to a stop, and a moment later, the hood was removed from my head with every bit of care that had been applied when pulling it into place.
I found myself looking up into the slit eyes of another of the Catseye. It was dressed in female human business clothes: a skirt, blouse, and jacket.
"What is it with you people?" I asked. "You are the third Catseye I know about, and the first two run facilities in Minneapolis."
"And I run the facility here," it said. It spoke English, if heavily accented. "You may call me Jasmine Brighteyes, Ms. Fletcher, although you will have little opportunity."
"I'll add the name to the list I'll curse with my dying breaths." I looked around, and the men were gone. It was only the two women and this Catseye in the room with me. I turned back to face it.
"The reports of your fire are not exaggerated," it said. "I meet for perhaps ten minutes with each candidate. If you like, you may spend this time chastising me. I will not be swayed. You do not know everything or understand the necessity of what we do."
"If you need brides, you could do what the rest of us do. You could ask."
"I will give you a choice. Do you wish to talk about that? Or do you wish to talk about what is going to happen over the next few days and listen to an offer to earn privileges while you wait? You will be spending a significant amount of time in your cell for the next several days, or possibly a few weeks, and I can already tell the boredom ill suits you."