"A mistake?" Jewel repeated, her eyes wide.

"Yes," the alien confirmed. Jewel waited.

"What kind of mistake?" she demanded when it didn't elaborate. "What the hell is going on here?"

The alien cleared his throat.

"You are aboard the Ra'hom Zoological Research Vessel, Diviner,” the alien explained. "I am its Curator. Diviner travels the known universe seeking life-bearing planets, collecting data and samples. When we encounter a planet with megafauna, the ship selects a healthy live subject to bring aboard this ship. The display of charismatic megafauna helps foster interest in education and conservation among the Ra'homi public."

"I'm in a zoo," Jewel simplified.

"It is a bit more than just a zoo—"

"I'm in a space zoo," Jewel said, cutting him off. "And I'm talking to an alien."

"Yes," the Curator said helpfully. One again, Jewel waited for him to clarify. He didn't.

"How are you speaking English?" she asked. "Could you speak it the whole time?"

"I am not speaking English," the Curator explained. "I am speaking a Ra'homi language. But the ship is equipped with auto-translators. They pick up the auditory input and the psychic intent behind the words and project the meanings telepathically to the listeners for seamless contextual understanding. The auto-translators are typically only equipped to translate between different Ra'homi language groups, but when I realized you were attempting to communicate I pulled the collected data on your planet and added your species’s languages to the translator's lexicon."

"Oh," Jewel said, a little stunned. "Universal translator. Makes sense."

Now that she was paying attention, she could almost hear his strange purring language underneath the English she thought he was speaking.

"Yes," the Curator said. Jewel fought the urge to punch him.

"So how did this happen?" she asked. "Does your zoo make a habit of scooping up and imprisoning innocent people?"

"No," the Curator answered, and for a minute, Jewel thought he was going to stop there, but he continued. "This is a unique situation. The Diviner is almost fully automated. It sets its own course and chooses which planets to examine based on internal calculations. It even builds the habitats entirely on its own. It is always taking on new samples and specimens. But you are the first time the Diviner has encountered intelligent life. This is the first time the Ra'homi people have encountered other intelligent life."

The Curator paused for a moment to let that sink in.

"Holy shit," Jewel said articulately.

"Indeed,” the Curator said impassively. Jewel wondered what that translated to in his language. “The Diviner was not prepared for this possibility. It merely detected that your species was the most widely established form of megafauna on your planet and selected a suitable sample subject for observation based on ideal parameters."

"Parameters?" Jewel asked.

"A healthy young adult with no dependent offspring, preferably isolated without a herd or family group that might suffer from their absence, and preferably alone and about to die," the Curator said. "A random subject was selected from the individuals who met that criteria, and you happened to be the one chosen."

"But I wasn't about to die," Jewel pointed out. "I was fine!"

"According to your file," the Curator replied, pulling a tablet from his robes to check the data, "you were in a geographically unstable area during a heavy storm. Had the ship not taken you, you would have been swept away in a mudslide shortly afterward."

"Oh." Jewel sat down heavily on the nearest rock. She took a few deep breaths and shook her head to clear it. "Okay. That's fine. Whatever. Now that you know I'm intelligent, you've got to take me back home, back to Earth. Right?"

"No," The Curator said and turned around.

"What?" Jewel went pale, jumping to her feet and following him. "Listen, if you're worried my species will be angry, trust me, they won't! They'll be thrilled! Humanity has wanted to meet aliens forever!"

"I am afraid it is simply impossible," the Curator answered, calm and unconcerned. "But we will endeavor to make your life here as comfortable as possible from now on."

He opened the panel he'd come in through and started to step through. Jewel caught him by the arm.

"You can't just keep me here," she demanded. "I'm an intelligent being. I have rights!"

"I will research your home world for ways to improve your habitat," the Curator said, shaking her off easily. "Please do not attempt to leave it again."

Then the door closed behind him and he was gone, leaving Jewel alone.

She wasn't ashamed to say she threw a temper tantrum, screaming and throwing rocks and sticks and anything else she could pick up at the wall he'd left through, calling him and his entire species every foul name in her memory, which was extensive. Eventually, she wore herself out and sat down and cried for a while. She hadn't cried this much in years. This situation was too strange and overwhelming. How was she supposed to process this?

After a while, she pulled herself together. So she was stuck here for now. At least until she could convince the big blue asshole to take her home, which she would. Until then, she might as well make herself comfortable. She took the sharpened rocks she'd collected earlier, tore a strip off the bottom of her shirt, tied it to a stick, and made herself a phenomenally shitty little axe. Still, it was better than doing it by hand. She hacked a few branches off the nearby trees and made herself a lean-to on one of the rocks. Better than nothing, she supposed.

She'd be off the ground anyway. She supposed fire was the next step. All of these trees were young so there wasn't really any dry timber around, but she'd just have to do her best. She'd been a girl scout, and Basic had come with some wilderness survival training. She could do this. She got herself a few more branches, ignoring the raw blisters on her palms which were rapidly turning bloody.

She dug a crude little pit near her lean-to and got to work, muttering curses to herself as she fought with the green sticks that were all she had to work with. She got a little spark going, however, and laughed triumphantly as she sheltered it, trying to get it to catch on the grass and torn fabric from her shirt she was using as kindling. Just as it was starting to catch, there was a sudden chime and it began to rain, hard, directly over her fire pit.

"What the fuck?" she shouted over the river at the wall. After a moment, it opened and the Curator appeared.

"You cannot do that," he said.

"Why not?" Jewel demanded, yelling across the water at him.

"Because fire is dangerous," the Curator replied like he was talking to a child.

"I know that!" Jewel snapped. "But I need it! For heat and for cooking!"

"The temperature in this habitat has been specifically calibrated to remain comfortable for you," the Curator said calmly. "And food will be provided."

"Fuck you!" Jewel shouted at him. The Curator stared at her silently for a moment, then he turned around and left again. Jewel screamed in frustration.

She set herself to starting as many fires as she could, with surprising success considering the lack of resources. She set them up along the wall behind the river where the window was, and as each one sparked and was drowned by the instant rain, she just moved stubbornly on to the next one.

Eventually, the door opened again and the Curator appeared, looking even more annoyed than before.

"I am going to need you to stop doing that," he said.

"Sure," Jewel agreed, standing up and stomping over to stand in front of him. "Take me home and I'll stop."

"I cannot do that," the Curator replied. "But I can make it rain continuously in here. I assume that would not be enjoyable for you?"

She glared up at him hatefully while he stared down, still just looking mildly aggravated.

"Fine," she said. "Then I'll just get sick and die. So much for your fancy exhibit."

He didn't have eyebrows, but she saw his eye twitch in annoyance and knew she had him.

"In fact, maybe I'll just throw myself in the river right now," she declared. "And don't bother sending any more food. I won't be eating it. If you don't take me home, I will find any way I can to hurt myself until you do."

"It looks like you are already doing that," the Curator said with a frown, noticing the state of her bloody, blistered hands.

He reached for her, catching her by surprise, and she pulled away immediately, frowning. He huffed.

"I would like to see your hand," he said. "So I can determine if you need medical assistance."

"I'm fine," Jewel declared. "There'll be a lot worse than this if you don't take me home.”

The Curator rolled his eyes and snatched her hand suddenly, yanking her closer. She tried to pull away, but he was too strong, barely budging as she yanked. She gave up, glaring at him sullenly as he examined her palm. She couldn't help a shiver as he drew a finger gently over the tender skin.

"This biome is full of bacteria," he said after a moment, still looking at her hand. "This will need to be sterilized."

He reached into his robe, pulling out another sedative patch, and Jewel shouted, trying to pull away. He only dragged her closer, his inhumanly handsome face inches from hers.

"For Christ's sake, I'm not an animal!" she said, a note of real panic in her voice.

He paused. She stared back at him, breathing heavily as he looked into her eyes. She wished she could tell what he was thinking behind those mesmerizing golden eyes.

"You do not like being sedated," the Curator said after a moment. "Will you behave if I allow you to walk to the med bay with me?"

"All right." Jewel gave in at once, just glad she wasn’t going to be knocked out again. He wanted to bandage her hands, and he was going to do it whether she cooperated or not. At least this way, she'd be able to see more outside of her habitat. She might be able to spot a way out of here.

"Very well." The Curator stepped back and opened the panel door, gesturing for her to go through first. She obeyed reluctantly, eyeing the stadium full of modules again as she emerged. So this was a zoo, and these were all aliens. She still couldn't quite get her mind around it.

"This way," the Curator said, putting a hand on her back to guide her into the slightly downsloping center of the room. He touched something on his tablet as they stepped into the center, and Jewel yelped as a current of air caught them both and carried them away at a ridiculous speed. She grabbed for the Curator, clinging to him out of shocked surprise as they were swept along. He seemed unconcerned, staying upright effortlessly as they rushed past endless rows of animal habitats.

Then suddenly, they were out of the stadium and passing through a series of brightly lit white hallways, all made of a kind of seamless, slightly translucent white plastic. At last, the air current slowly tapered off, depositing them in front of a door that was appropriately sized for the alien standing next to Jewel. He resumed walking without missing a step as Jewel stumbled, struggling to get her breath back. The Curator looked down at the bloody handprints she'd left on his robes with a scowl.

"Come along," he said impatiently and waved her forward as soon as she'd recovered enough to walk.

He led her into the same sterile room with the stark white table she'd been in before. She grimaced, lingering near the door.

"Is something wrong?" the Curator asked, turning back to look at her.

She shook her head.

"I'm just not a fan of this room," she replied tersely. "My last couple of visits here weren't exactly enjoyable."

"Well that is hardly because of the room itself," he replied, clearly not understanding. Jewel huffed but forced herself further into the room. Once he saw she was coming, he turned toward a panel in the wall. She could see the symbols on it changing, scrolling through data in an alien script, though he didn't touch it or say anything. A moment later, a space opened in the wall beside the panel and a small bottle appeared along with what looked like a roll of bandages.

She sat down on the edge of the white table as he returned to her with the medicine. The more she watched him, the more surprisingly human he appeared to her. At first glance, all she noticed were the differences—the bright color of his skin, sapphire blue with stark white stripes and striations across his cheeks, the smooth, tapered tentacles in place of hair, just a shade darker than his skin, the ends of which curled over his broad shoulders. There was a stripe of nearly neon blue down the center of each tendril, reminding her of garden lizards she'd chased as a child. But once you were past the dramatic inhuman aspects, they were actually quite similar. He was obscenely tall and built broader and more solidly than most humans, but he had the average distribution of arms and legs. His hands were broad and strong with long, articulate fingers. His facial features were very human, even with their tattoo-like decoration of white stripes.

A high seat materialized next to the table without prompting, and the Curator sat down, taking her hand. The bottle had an aerosol nozzle, and he sprayed it over the abrasions on her hands. She hissed at the sting, like iodine, and pulled away, but he pulled her back impatiently. She frowned as he began winding the bandage around her palms.

"Everything here is so advanced," she commented. "I would have thought y'all would have something fancier than bandages."

"These are strips of hypoallergenic synthetic skin specifically calibrated to your physiology to protect the wound and speed healing while also being maximally durable," the Curator replied without looking up from her hand. "They are more than 'fancy' enough. The computer chose this particular method based on your file for the sake of your comfort. In the hopes, I assume, that if they were familiar, you would not attempt to chew them off."

"No promises," Jewel said with a scoff, rolling her eyes.

He was very close to her as he bent over her hand, close enough for her to feel the slight coolness of his skin just an inch away. She took the opportunity to examine him more closely. His eyes were high and narrow, his proud nose smoothing at the bridge into the epicanthic fold. His irises really were gold. Not yellow or tawny like an animal, but genuinely glittering and slightly metallic as soft, hammered gold, striking against the pitch black of his sclera. It was hard not to get lost staring into them. He had no lashes or eyebrows, no body hair at all, as far as she could tell.

Though the jagged, almost lightning bolt-shaped stripes on his brow bone almost resembled eyebrows, giving him a look of permanent aggravation. His mouth was broad and set as stubbornly firm as his square jaw. His fingers were surprisingly gentle, working carefully and quickly as he bandaged her blistered palms, his cool fingers grazing her skin. She peered closer curiously, glimpsing something on his throat under the stiff high collar of his robe.

"Are those gills?" she asked, fascinated. He sat up quickly, pulling away as though offended.

"That is hardly any business of yours," he declared, fussing with his collar to pull it higher.

"What?" Jewel huffed. "You probably know everything about my body, thanks to your files, but I can't even ask about your gills?"

"No," he said. "You cannot. Now hold still and let me finish this."

Jewel scowled but he ignored her, going back to work on her hands, finishing with the left and switching to the right.

"What am I talking about?" Jewel muttered. "You probably haven't even looked at my file. Why would you care? I'm just a zoo animal."

"For your information, I have read your file multiple times," he corrected her. "The computer is still processing the information gathered about your planet and species, but I have read what it has collected so far."

"Really?" Jewel was surprised. He hadn't seemed interested.

"It became quite apparent after your first escape attempt that you were not a simple animal," he explained. "I was attempting to ascertain exactly what you were. The fact that I had to stop repeatedly to deal with your continued escape attempts did not make that easy."

"Well, maybe you should have tried talking to me," Jewel pointed out. "I thought I was being kidnapped. Of course I tried to escape. I mean, I pretty much am being kidnapped, but still."

"Oh, yes, I am sure talking would have worked wonderfully," he said in unmistakable sarcasm. Then he looked up at her and said something in his own language, a strange low purring statement that when combined with his intense golden stare, it made goosebumps rise on Jewel's arms.

"We could have figured something out," Jewel said defensively.

"You hit me with a stick the first time you saw me," he countered. Jewel felt her face heat with embarrassment.

"I was scared, okay?" she said. "I didn't know what was going on. I still don't know what's going on."

He finished with her hand and let her go, and she flexed her fingers, testing the bandage. She was surprised how little it affected her movement. It was as tight as a second skin but she could hardly feel it.

The Curator stood up, putting the bottle and the remains of the roll of bandages back in the alcove by the wall panel, which closed over them.

"So what's going to happen to me?" she asked him, serious now. "Really. Why won't you take me home?"

He looked at her for a moment, considering.

"Because you will be of far greater scientific value here," he said at last. "I intend to present you to the Council of Ra'hom as evidence of other intelligent life in the universe. If it is not obvious, I will need you to be there in order to prove your abilities to the Council. The discovery of the first intelligent species will revolutionize our understanding of the universe."

"Can't you just tell them and have them come to Earth?" Jewel asked. "Why does it have to be me?"

"The Council would not fly halfway across the universe to investigate the possible findings of a single scientist," the Curator explained. "I could send them the Diviner's files, but their veracity would be debated for the next century without a live specimen. I would be ordered to bring you before them anyway. Now stand up. I should return you to your habitat."

"I'm an intelligent being," Jewel argued, not getting up. "My consent should matter in this. I don't want to be a damn zoo exhibit. I want to go home."

"The issue is too critically important to be hampered by the worries of an individual," he said coolly. "The future of two species is at stake. Even if I wanted to take you home, which would make me an idiot of monumental proportions, I would never get approval to do so. And I would need significant approval to alter the course of the Diviner that way. I have not even been allowed to alter course to take you directly to the home world. The Diviner is going to complete its current mission and return on schedule."

"How long is that going to take?" Jewel asked, startled.

He said something in his own language, and when she only stared at him, he sighed and pulled a tablet from his robe, glancing over it for a moment.

"According to the files," he said, "it is roughly six months."