Hope
All Alone

Vercnaye. The capital city. A place crowded with different species of alien life. A place I never thought I’d have to go to. However, I didn’t have a choice. All my time spent working day after day, hour after hour has all gone to waste. All the money I managed to scrape together; all the sleepless nights spent curled up in a back alley were all for null.

They were destroying my home. My entire city would be flattened within weeks and rebuilt to resemble yet another towering alien city. Everyone knew Earth was too overpopulated. That there were too many humans and too many aliens taking up room. It would only be a matter of time before the new government decided to cull us humans instead of relocating us.

I shuffle forward as the line moves. There are hundreds of us here, all waiting to be shipped off to various countries, cities, and towns. Most of the people in line with me are humans. Most of them are also homeless, jobless, poor, beaten, and tired.

Three weeks ago, two officers came knocking on the door of my ratty apartment, armed with papers and wearing official looking uniforms. They’d told me I’d been let go from my job at the deli, and that my apartment block would be demolished within the coming month. At the time, I thought maybe I was just unlucky, that somehow the universe decided to pick me to take a shit on, but I was wrong.

This happened to the entire south end of the city. Where the poorest of us humans were slumming it. The Department of Humanism Services had kicked us out from our homes and taken away our jobs. Ironic.

So, here I am. Waiting to leave to Vercnaye, a city known for its particular distaste in humans, to become who knows what. I could be a gardener, a slave, a butler, or maybe even an appetizer for the human-munching species well known to my city as the Boons.

I clutch the crinkled paper in my hands, my other hand tightening on my backpack strap. When the officers came to my home, they handed me a piece of paper with my name, a number, and some other typed up words that I couldn’t read.

They said it was a ticket. A ticket to ride on one of the transport vehicles created by the first alien race to settle here on Earth. Humans called them Voomers. I don’t actually know what the real name is for the bubble-like capsule that flew down tunnels as speeds unknown to the human race. All I know is that it carted you off to who knows where and that there would be no return ticket.

Sighing to myself, I let my eyes wander over the building, squinting in the harsh light. The Department building was massive. It stretched on for ages, and the front lay open to the view of passersby’s where they could look up at the marble pillars supporting the ornate roof. White marble desks line the back of the long building, tv screens hanging above them displaying times and other messages.

Everything is white, and clean. Very different from the damp and quiet alley ways I’m used to.

I shuffle forward again as the lady with a small child in front of me moves away, an officer leading her towards a sectioned off area.

At the desk, an old woman with bright orange hair wound around her head looks up at me, her eyes dull and lifeless after years of working here.

“Name?” She drawls, chewing on something in her mouth.

I clear my throat, “Um, Emery Lowence.”

I step a little closer, tapping my fingers along the tall marble counter as she types into the computer in front of her.

“Number?” She smacks her lips.

I fumble for the paper in my hands, smoothing out the creases as best I can before reading, “S-sixty-three.”

She sighs, clicking away at her computer, her long fingernails clacking loudly against the keys. I wait patiently as she continues to ignore my presence, my nerves spiking as I get a glance of the bored looking line stretched out behind me. Did she expect me to move away now or something?

Sweat begins to bead on my forehead, but I don’t dare wipe it away.

“As you’re an unregistered human, you’ll have to be put in the care of a Vercnaye resident for eight months.”

“Uh.” What do I say?

The old lady looks from her screen to me, before resuming her little rant.

“You’ll be sent off to Darcne and will be placed under the care of a Mr. Mirker. After your term has passed, you may decide to remain under the supervision of Mr. Mirker or leave said residence. Do you understand?” her nasal voice drags out.

I don’t even get to say yes before she’s thrusting a glass panel into my hands, scrolling with her clawed finger down as if I can read all the words she runs by my eyes. I’ve never been a good reader.

“This is your contract with Mr. Mirker. Please sign at the bottom and you will be transported shortly.” She taps at a dotted blue line at the bottom.

I don’t have a pen. Or anything to t-type my name or write it. How am I supposed to sign a glass contract?

The lady rolls her eyes, snatching my wrist in her grasp before placing one of my fingers on the dotted line. A blue light flashes across the screen, and as she lets go, her nails pinching my skin, a fingerprint remains.

“Have a nice day,” she spits out, snatching the tablet back.

A bell rings. The same bell that has rung for every person once they’ve visited one of the desks. I rub at my wrist, moving away from her, but not really knowing where I’m supposed to go next.

Did she say I’d be staying with someone? Was this person a human? Alien? Were they going to be my boss or something? Also, I thought I was going to Vercnaye, so where the hell is Darcne?

Shoving the ticket in my jeans pocket, I look around from some sort of sign, or maybe an officer I can speak to, but I don’t have to look far before an officer dressed in blue steps forward and grasps my elbow. Silver and gold badges line his sleeves and a small blue cap sits on his head.

He begins leading me away from the line of pitiful humans, guiding me down a previously roped off hallway. Lights line the walls in strips, the white lights previously seen throughout the building turning a dull blue as the hallway continues on. The ground begins to feel as if it’s on a slope angling down, but I can’t be too sure.

“Um.” I clear my throat, “Excuse me officer, but where exactly are we going?”

He doesn’t answer me, his grip on my elbow turning tight. The closer that we get to wherever it is that we’re getting, the temperature in the hallway seems to drop, a cool draft drifting over us as we continue to walk.

Blinking in the dark light, I squint as the shape of a fence comes into view, the blue hue of the hallway reflecting off of the metal bars. The officer still hasn’t breathed a word, the silence as our footsteps echo causing more sweat to trickle down my back. Why was I being taken here? Why is no one else here?

The hallway comes to an end, turning into a horizontal tunnel obviously blocked off by the gate.

I’ve been to a train station before, when I was little. The place has been bustling with life, the station filled with families and men in suits who blew whistles when the train was about to leave. So if a voomer was created to replace trains and cars and things, then where on earth were all the people?

Slowly the guard’s grip on my elbow ceases, and he pushes me forward towards the gate. Without saying a word, the man leans his wrist against the top of the fence where a lock sits, a little red light flashing up at us. It lets out a high-pitched beep when his skin touches its surface, the lock disengaging and the light turning green.

A loud whooshing noise fills the tunnel, the cool draft turning into a breeze as something approaches. I step back, the hairs on the back on my neck standing on end as the sound draws closer, but the officer doesn’t let me get very far.

He grasps the back of my shirt in his hand, effectively pulling me to a stop unless I want to be strangled by my shirt collar. My eyes widen as a large square shape comes to a sudden halt in front of the gate, blue light pulsing from its edges as it floats in the air. It has no windows, no doors or any seams that indicate a way of getting in or out. I suppose this is what they called a voomer. A floating shoebox is more like it.

“All other passengers to Darne have already left the station. You will take this carriage alone.” I jump at the booming voice of the officer, his hand still tight around my shirt.

“A-alone?” I squeak.

He ignores me, instead opting to pull me forward as he once again places his wrist in the fence blocking us from plummeting into the tunnel. The lock makes a beeping sound again, but this time, the voomer pulses a bright blue. The gate swings open, allowing us to step through it as the voomer lets out a hiss, its own door appearing in the front of it and sliding away.

A small step floats out from its confines, hovering over the dark abyss that makes up the tunnel. The man pushes me forward again, practically shoving me onto the floating step and up into the voomer.

The inside is as plain as the outside. The entire carriage glows a warm yellow, a bench seat curving out from the right and left sides. There are still no windows, no seatbelts or any type of protection in case it crashes. Only smooth surfaces that smell distinctly of antiseptics.

Gingerly I step further in, taking a seat on the hard bench. The glow pulses yellow again, dimming to a softer light.

“The trip will take up to three minutes. Please stay seated until the door is unsealed at your destination. You will be greeted on your arrival by a Darne Department of Humanism Services officer and taken to your host.”

He finishes his speech just as the door to the voomer begins to slide shut with another alarming hiss, sealing me away from the outside world.

“W-wait!” I call, standing up from my seat, but it’s already too late.

The door disappears as if it were never there to begin with, and I’m stuck inside the contraption.

My breathing turns heavy as I retake my seat, wiping my sweaty palms down my pants. I don’t know where I’m going. There’s no way for me to leave, there are no doors, no windows, no way for me to escape! What if it crashes? Or- or what if the voomer malfunctions? What happens then?

Taking a deep breath, I clench my hands in my lap and close my eyes, blocking out the soft glowing capsule I am now stuck in.

Whatever god or deity there is out there, please, oh please keep me safe.

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