The black void swallows us up, and the next thing I know I’m standing in a completely different place, in some white room with white walls and a white ceiling. Everything is white, unstained, and impossibly clean, completely spotless, just like the white tube that took us here.

My hand was clenched on Vex’s upon walking into the blackness.

It’s still clenched hard, but there’s nothing in my hand.

“Vex?” I say, looking around.

He’s nowhere to be seen.

There’s no one here.

What happened to Vex? What happened to the aliens with the antennae who led us here?

“Vex!” I cry out, louder this time, my voice growing frantic.

Fuck. I can’t be here all alone.

What am I going to do without him?

Apparently I need him more than I realize.

Was this all a trap?

OK, I tell myself. Calm down. Maybe this is just some kind of routine thing. Maybe Vex is in the next room or something. Maybe they can’t transport people at exactly the same time to exactly the same place.

“Vex!” I call out. “Anyone? Is anyone here?”

“Hello,” says an alien, appearing out of nowhere right next to me.

“Where’s Vex?” I say. “What did you do with him?”

“There’s no need to worry,” says the alien.

“What’s going on? What have you done with him?”

“You’re safe now, Felia,” says the alien.

“How do you know my name?”

“We know everything about you. We know that you were kidnapped from Earth by this cyborg creature, this machine.”

Well, that’s true. But that’s not the whole story. I mean, I’m starting to have feelings for him, after all. It feels like he’s my protector, my savior, even though he’s my captor. Without him, I feel naked and alone, even with this alien here.

“We transported him to a holding chamber.”

“How do you know the story?” I ask, suspicious.

“We intercepted all the communications,” says the alien. “And we have been in communication with General Jazch. He knows that we have you in our possession now.”

I don’t like the way the alien says “possession,” as if I’m a prisoner too.

“I thought you didn’t have contact with humans?”

“That’s what we told the cyborg so that he would confide in us. We aren’t a violent species, and we did not want to have a conflict. It’s easier this way. He was transported directly into a holding chamber, and he hasn’t been hurt. He will be delivered to General Jazch soon.”

“The general’s coming here?”

Fear strikes me, making my body feel cold and clammy.

After feeling our space craft shake when the general shot at us, I knew from that moment on, instinctively, that the general wouldn’t stop at anything to have me killed. It simply makes more political sense. Vex is right. The general does not have my best interests at heart, even if he thinks what he’s doing is for humanity’s benefit.

“Yes, he will be here shortly. He will return you to your planet.”

“Seriously?” I say. “He’s going to kill me. If you’re monitoring all of humanity’s secret communications, you must know that it’s better if I’m dead.”

“That’s earthling business,” says the alien. “We don’t involve ourselves. We like to stay neutral, and it’s in our best interest to remain on good terms with General Jazch.”

“So you’re not violent, but you’re going to hand me over to a man who’s certainly going to kill me?”

“The general will do with you what he wishes.”

“That certainly sounds like you know he’s going to kill me.”

The alien moves its antenna in a way that I imagine is the alien equivalent of a human shrug.

“You bastards,” I say.

“I will leave you alone now.”

It leaves, walking towards the wall, which automatically opens up, parting for it.

I’m left alone in this empty white room. The alien said that Vex was in a holding cell, but I can’t imagine that what I’m in isn’t a holding cell of its own.

Those bastards. They tricked us. They were just lying out there in the jungle. Just a bunch of lying alien bastards.

It makes me furious.

And not just at them. The more I think about it, the more mad I am at Vex himself. After all, he’s supposed to be better and smarter than a normal human. Shouldn’t he have seen this coming? He said we had no other options, but couldn’t he have done something?

He could have fought them all off with his bare hands. Instead, he led us right into a trap, and now there’s no hope. Now I’m going to be delivered to the general, who will certainly execute the both of us. After all, I imagine he thinks it’s better to just say that the senator’s daughter disappeared mysteriously. If he admits that I was kidnapped by a cyborg, then it makes the cyborgs seem powerful. It gives them some sort of validity in the eyes of humanity. After all, we’re supposed to think that they’re unthinking machines, incapable of doing things on the basis of their own free will. And hatching a plan to travel to Earth and kidnap a senator’s daughter is certainly not something your average machine is capable of. Even powerful computers can’t plan tasks like that.

I spend a few minutes pacing angrily, before realizing I should try to escape.

But there’s no escape. There isn’t even a single seam in this strange room with its white walls. I try walking into the wall like the alien did, but it doesn’t part for me. No doubt it’s some sophisticated alien technology that I’ll never be able to figure out.

What the hell am I going to do?

If I could just communicate with Vex, maybe he could do something. But how would he find me, even if he could somehow escape his own holding cell?

Suddenly, a plan comes to me.

It’s a little risky, but there aren’t any other options.

I can’t simply rely on the general’s good will, which he’s already proven is nonexistent. I can’t just wait around for him to come “rescue” me, on the off chance that he decides not to execute me.

I’ve heard my dad talk about General Jazch. He’s supposed to be completely brutal, cold and heartless, which of course isn’t bad for a general, if he’s on your side, that is.

I start coughing. More accurately, I start pretending to cough.

I’m pretty good at it. Pretending to be sick has gotten me out of countless boring meetings back on Earth.

Soon, I’m doubled over in my fake coughing fit.

I know the aliens are monitoring me somehow. They’re probably watching me through some hidden camera system that I’d never be able to spot in a million years.

I look up as the wall opens, and an alien comes into the room. I think it’s a different one from before, but it’s hard to tell them apart. And I get the sense that they don’t exactly think individually, but rather with some kind of weird collective mind.

“Are you having trouble with your breathing functions?” So much for their translator’s use of common Standard International English phrases.

“Yes,” I say, coughing all the way through the word. “I can’t breathe. I think the atmosphere here isn’t good for me.”

“The atmosphere is exactly as it is on Earth,” says the alien. “It’s been designed to accommodate your odd biological needs.”

Oh, my biological needs are odd? That’s coming from the green-skinned hive minded alien with three antennae? That’s rich.

“I need a doctor,” I say, continuing to cough furiously.

My hope is that I’ll worry them enough that they’ll take me somewhere. Or do something. Maybe there’ll be some kind of opportunity that they present. All I need is something to hope for—an open door, a moment when they’re not looking.

I can’t just wait around to die.

“The atmosphere is fine for your needs.”

“I need… help,” I say, as if I’m just barely managing to say it despite the coughing fits.

I make myself fall onto the floor in the most convincing way I can, letting my body go limp and the side of my head hit the floor. It fucking hurts, but I know it won’t be convincing otherwise.

“I’ll take you to the medical unit,” says the alien. “Come with me.”

I pretend that it’s difficult to get to my feet.

In reality, it is a little difficult.

That blow to my head must have been harder than I’d thought. The world seems to sway before me. My vision is a little blurry.

But all I need is one chance, one little opening.

I follow the alien to the wall, which opens mysteriously before us. I examine the seam that opens into a doorway, trying to see what kind of technology controls us. That could be very useful information for an escape. But I can't see anything. There aren’t hinges, or anything that looks mechanical whatsoever. It just looks like the opening in the wall was always there. There aren’t any marks that show that it was a solid wall only seconds earlier.

“This way,” says the alien, gesturing down a hallway.

The hallway reminds me of the white tubes that transported us earlier. And it creeps me out. I keep expecting the black void to yawn before me, but it isn’t here. It’s just a hallway.

Just a hallway, I keep reminding myself, trying not to freak out.

I have to pretend to keep coughing, holding my stomach to keep up the ruse.

The alien doesn’t seem to have a weapon. I’m looking at it out of the corner of my eyes as I’m hunched over.

But maybe it has some kind of secret, super high tech weapon hidden away somewhere.

Well, there’s only one way to find out. It’s not going to show me its weapon unless I attack it. And my chances might be better here than when I get to the medical unit, whatever the hell that is, since there might be a ton of these little green alien bastards there, all waiting for me and ready to restrain me should I try anything.

It’s now or never.

But I can’t quite make myself act.

Fear overtakes me.

After all, I’ve never attacked anyone before.

And now I’m going up against an enemy that I don’t understand at all. It’s a complete unknown.

But what would Vex do?

He’d act first and think later.

At least from what I’ve seen.

It’s time to follow his example.

Without thinking about how I’m going to attack it, I make my move. I literally have to force my unwilling body to attack this alien.

I shove my body against it clumsily, but it’s enough for it to lose its balance.

It topples down. Two of its antennae push against my head as it falls and I fall on top of it. They’ve got a squishy, velvety feel to them. Very strange indeed.

It makes a high pitch squealing noise in its own language, something that I can’t understand, and its antennae wave wildly around, rubbing against my face like animalistic flowers in distress.

“You bastard,” I say, using my knee to hit it in the stomach.

It makes another noise, louder and shriller this time.

I scramble to my feet, and before it can get up, I rush off down the strange blank white hallway.

OK, I got away.

Now what the hell am I going to do?