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But if I know anything at all, it’s that humans possess something special. Despite all odds, we adapt and survive.
Our survival isn’t fueled on hatred. On the contrary, humans connect and share, not only ideas, but our hearts.
We build, not destroy.
“I’m giving you everything,” I say. “My memories. My family. My body. I am asking for one small favor from you.”
Rekker pulls on the back of Lök’s neck. “Do not antagonize her,” he says.
Lök’s eyes shift. His scales ruffle. He glows green. “I suppose you have made some sacrifices to get here,” he says to me.
Another tear rolls down my cheek. It startles him.
“I have left it all behind, and I’ve barely made a fuss. I deserve a fucking award for this performance,” I say.
Rekker doesn’t look to the others for approval. He simply reaches forward, motioning for my hand.
I take it, feeling the thick fingers wrap around mine. He lifts and brings me close, whispering against my ear, “I won’t let them hurt you.”
I swallow, throat stinging as the tears keep coming. I inhale and lower my arms around him.
He lifts me, carrying me back to the room I woke in earlier.
The door slides open.
“What if she decides to run from us again?” Vraik asks.
Rekker walks in the room. “She has nowhere and no one to run toward.”
The thought runs through my mind. I shouldn’t have opened that door, but it was the only thing I could do. Maybe I could have held out for half a day. But once my thirst for water kicked in, they’d only need to wait a few more hours for me to exit the chamber.
I feel like a fool. Most of all, I feel unprotected.
Gently, he lays me down to rest, tucking me inside the sheets. “When you are ready, we will bring you to our home planet,” he says.
Before they leave, he shows me a small, mechanical device with a needle at the end. I jump back, wildly kicking it away from me.
Rekker, as respectful as he’s been, signals to the other brutes to hold me down. Massive, thick fingers curl over my biceps and ankles. They mash my wrists together, dragging me onto the bed, screaming for no one to hear.
“If you want to see our home, you need identification,” Rekker says, aiming the mechanism against my neck. “Sentinel scanners won’t let you into the planet without it.”
The frigid needle singes my skin. “Please,” I cry and gulp thick saliva. “Don’t do this. You’re better than this.”
Are they?
He doesn’t listen. A loud motor-like noise vibrates, and the needle pulses inside my neck, shooting between the muscle near my ear.
I become paralyzed, jaw hanging dumbly. Drooling, I start to spasm.
The needle pulls out, and Rekker sighs with satisfaction. Nodding, he says. “The pain will go away, but now you have identification. In addition to a citizenship chip, you will be able to read and write our language. We have given you the breath and language of our atmosphere.”
I catch my breath, astonished. Rubbing the back of my neck, I whisper, “Thanks?”
“We are on your side,” Vraik says.
Lök nods. “We will leave you to yourself. In the morning we will reach Ubara. Prepare yourself.”
I should have never agreed to their sick game.
