Page 58 of Alien Jeopardy
“What do you think about the name Ken?” She narrows her eyes at nothing, still working on making neat knots of her own sheet. “Like the doll. Ken, no privates.”
A laugh bursts out of her, quieted again just as quickly.
“The name means nothing to me,” I tell her.
“Right. That’s okay. We’re calling it Ken.”
“Ken No Privates,” I dutifully repeat.
“He’s just Ken,” she says, choking on the words.
I pat her back. “Are you feeling alright?”
“Absolutely. Right. So what do you think we should try to take with us from here? Do you think we should look for the crew? Billie and Ayro? Do you think Ken is making them fight, too? This is so weird. Fuck!”
Brightness springs to her eyes, and pink suffuses her cheeks and a band across her nose. “I hate crying,” she says, pinching the bridge of her nose with one hand, fanning her eyes with the other. “Distract me. Say something mean to me, make me mad.”
“I would never.” Outrage makes me nearly rip the blanket in two. “I would never say something mean to you.”
“Not even if you were mad at me?” she asks, sniffling. A single tear tracks down her cheek.
“Not even then.”
“I need a hug,” she says, and before I can ask her to translate the word, she’s flung herself into me, wrapping her arms around my waist, her wet face against my chest.
Oh. An embrace.
Slowly, I wrap my arms around her, too, enjoying the creature comfort of her touch.
Enjoying it, and loving that she’s come to me for comfort.
Perhaps I stand a chance at being her chosen high five partner for life, after all.
CHAPTER
TWENTY-SEVEN
Ellison
We haven’t made it far from the structure we spent the night in when Ken’s weird voice booms all around us again.
“Welcome, contestants, to the first day of atruesurvival show.” The AI pauses, for drama, I assume, after the absurd stress on the word true.
Like, we get it, Ken. You’re trying to kill us. For funsies.
“I was lenient with all of you last night, while you grew accustomed to the new rules forMated and Afraid. Some of you made very interesting choices. Don’t worry, no one will be shown in coitus. Everything will be censored as deemed necessary per planet. So only the humans’ planet, of course.”
Oh shit. He’s talking about us. Ken is talking about Rex and I having sex. Only being censored on Earth.
“Pervert,” I mutter, kicking at a stone in my path. Rex stares at me curiously. Maybe pervert didn’t translate.
“I heard that, Ellison,” Ken says tartly. “Sticks and stones and words can hurt me.”
I sigh. “That’s not… you know what? Sure.” There’s no point in correcting the mixed metaphor.
For a split second, I wonder if Ken can be reasoned with. I wonder if, like Trent at work, he just requires a firm hand to lead him down the path of correct choices.
Of course, the moment I think it, Ken starts talking again, and the thought escapes me.
