Page 11 of Volunteer 4711

I walk out and stand with everyone who lives in the farmhouse. My patient, who’s clearly the leader of these males, addresses the Silver farmers. I can’t make out what he’s saying as he’s speaking very quickly, but it doesn’t sound good. It almost sounds like he’s yelling at them. When he finishes, they all look at me.

I don’t know what’s going on. I look between my patient and the Silver farmers, but all I get in return are blue eyes staring back at me. “I don’t understand,” I say. My mind is racing.What have I done?I question myself frantically.Am I going to be killed now?

One of the Silver female farmers explains, “Volunteer 4711, you go with him now.” She points to my patient.

“Why? You said he was a bad man. You said I could eat,” I protest. “I am hungry. I did nothing wrong.”

“You go with him,” one of the male farmers repeats and comes to push me toward my patient. “You go Volunteer 4711. Goodbye. Good life. Go.”

I’m afraid to go with these military Silvers, and before they can grab me, I break off and run back to the farmhouse as fast as I can. I don’t know where to hide, so I choose the washing room under all the sheets that need to be cleaned. I put my hand over my mouth so that no one can hear me breathing. My heart is beating so fast I can hardly hear anything but its own thumping. I close my eyes and pray to the god I left on Earth that no one will find me here. And that my patient will think I’m too much trouble to take.

It’s not long before I hear footsteps and the Silver’s language. They’re calling for me. I hear them say my volunteer number repeatedly. I close my eyes tighter and hope they’ll decide they don’t want me. I already know the evils on this rural farm, and I can handle them. I’ve no idea what bad things will happen to me if I leave with these males, and what more sophisticated torture will await me at a wealthier place.

I keep my hands over my mouth and will myself to be calm, so they won’t be able to hear me. Not much time passes before I feel the sheets being pulled from my head, and one of the military males grabs me. He easily throws me over his shoulder as if I weigh nothing. I kick and scream like my life depends on it because it most likely does, but my efforts don’t even slow him down.

He walks up to my patient, who grabs my chin and says directly in my face, “You now belong to me, Volunteer 4711. You will be punished later for running, but now be calm. I am taking you to a better place.” Then to the male holding me, my patient issues his commands. I don’t understand his words, but it’s clear when it happens to me. I’m put in a chair for prisoners or slaves on the new transport that’s appeared while I was gathering everyone. I’m completely strapped in so that I can’t move. As we take to the air, I cry at another life that has been lost to me.Goodbye, farm slash brothel, I think.I don’t know yet if you were the worst or the best of my alien life.

* * *

We are only in the transport for about half an hour before we dock with a starship. I’m escorted off by the same male who found me in the laundry room. I’ve no idea what’s happening to me now.

“Take me back. Who knows what space travel will do to me,” I say, but all my pleas fall on deaf ears.

“Walk, or I will drag you,” the Silver male says sternly, and I walk the best I can with my flimsy farming shoes on the slick floor of the starship. It’s like walking on ice. As I slowly walk, annoying my companion, I notice the starship corridors are brightly lit, and I see many males wearing the same uniforms as the males that were in the farmhouse. The males we pass only give me a fleeting look. The male behind me directs me down numerous corridors until finally arriving at what appears to be a clinic.

I walk in, and a few Silver military doctors approach me. They begin to speak to me quickly, and I hold up my hand to my ear. “Slowly.”

The male who escorted me here speaks to the doctor quickly, and I only catch my name, ‘Volunteer 4711.’

When he finishes, the same male doctor looks at me and says slowly, “Calm, Water woman. I am going to look at you and make sure you are in good health.” He runs his hands up and down his own body to let me know what he means.

I take a step back right into the alien male who escorted me here.

He urges me forward with his hand. “It is safe.”

I don’t trust doctors, not even on Earth, and especially not the last Silver doctor I encountered. “No,” I say.

I hear a sigh from behind me, and then the alien grabs me, “Only to keep you from running.” Then I hear him speaking to someone else not here as he isn’t looking at anyone. I hear my name.

A minute later, my patient arrives. He’s clearly annoyed but looks at me and says, “Volunteer 4711. I know you are scared, but as I trusted you, you must trust me. What did you say to me, ‘You are safe.’” He searches my eyes as he speaks. Then he says it again, “You are safe. Understand?”

I cross my fist from my shoulder to my side to indicate my acquiescence.

Then my patient gives me another hand gesture I don’t recognize, and the doctor escorts me to the back of the clinic. He casually picks up a device as we walk. Once in the back, he asks me to get on a medical bed by gesturing to it. I obey, wondering if I’m going to have to get naked. But he makes no indication that I should strip, which is a relief. Once I’m lying down, the doctor runs the device he picked up over my body without touching me and then points to a nearby screen. I can see the outline of my body there. It’s amazing. He flicks through different layers, and I can see he or the computer is picking things up that are flashing purple. The doctor points to those on the screen and then points to my body, “I must … you.”

I assume the unknown word is ‘heal’ and not ‘kill,’ so I agree, hoping I just didn’t agree for him to murder me. The doctor then motions for me to lie down on a different bed that looks like a large tanning bed in a different part of the clinic. I get in it, and he tells me to close my eyes. I close them and wonder ludicrously if I’m going to get a tan, even though I know that’s not the case.

I don’t feel anything but warmth from this new bed. I try and relax, wondering what was wrong with me, besides the bruising on my skin. Unfortunately, I’ll never know given my limited language skills and I don’t have a hope with the Silvers’ written language; I don’t even think the Silver farmers knew how to read and write.

Once the doctor finishes, he slaps a silver bracelet on my wrist. I look at it and notice it’s got alien writing on it and readouts of some kind.

“What is this?” I ask.

“For your health,” the doctor replies and then points to one of his medical screens.

I assume he’ll be monitoring me, and I hope it’s just an extra precaution and that I won’t be in any life-or-death situations soon. The doctor escorts me to the front of the clinic, and I’m told to follow the same Silver male who brought me here.

He’s impatiently waiting for me by the entrance, and I walk towards him. When I reach him, he says, “Walk.”

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