“Oh good. You’re all awake.”

A woman with ginger hair pulled into a tight bun strolled into the room. Like Theresa had said, she was wearing a camo military uniform, with words embroidered on either side of her chest. On the left, in black thread, it said, “Chapman.” On the right, “US Army.”

“Everyone’s waiting in the mess hall. You’re the last group. Let’s go.”

“Go where?” I said shakily, already inching away from her. Theresa grabbed my hand and squeezed.

The red-haired soldier looked at me flatly, like I was half brain dead.

“We’re going to the mess hall,” she said slowly, as if I were too dumb to understand.

Kat exploded from beside me, saying all the words that were flying through my own head.

“Fuck you. You what what she meant. What mess hall? Where the fuck are we?”

She didn’t reply, but instead turned on her heel, her tan boots squeaking against the smooth floor, and stepped out into the hallway.

The four of us looked at each other.

“I don’t think we have a choice,” said Melanie. Kat looked like she was about to fight a bitch, but Theresa nodded solemnly.

“At the very least maybe we’ll get some information,” I said. It was decided. I was going to go out there and see what the hell was up, even if Kat or the others didn’t want to.

I stepped forward, towards the door, and the other three girls followed.

Out in the hallway Chapman stood with two other soldiers, both men.

“Let’s go,” she said, walking ahead of us.

The two men positioned themselves behind us, caging us into our formation, and we started to walk down a long hallway. The floor and walls were of the same brushed metal as our room, with subtle glowing lights built into the arched ceiling. The hallway seemed to be curving, like we were following it around the outside of a massive oval.

“Feels like we’re in goddamn Star Trek,” Kat muttered.

Chapman glanced back, her expression a warning, but Kat met her gaze head on.

“Honestly, yeah,” I said, subtly glancing around. This place was like nothing I’d ever seen. All smooth edges, blinking lights, and shining chrome.

Eventually we were led through a large, open door and into something that seemed a little more familiar. The mess hall, as Chapman had called it, looked a lot like the cafeterias I was used to at school. Only instead of large windows and wood and plastic and bright lights, everything was made from the same silvery surface, and the light was low, with no windows. At one end of the room, a long row of counters, the kind you’d see at a buffet or in a cafeteria, stood empty.

Guess it’s not chow time. My stomach rolled nauseously at the thought of any kind of food.

“Here,” Chapman said, leading the four of us to sit at the closest table. We did so, looking around. The large room’s other tables were also occupied. My heart sank as I saw all the people, all the young women, in the exact same situation as us. Looking confused, angry, scared, some of them with torn clothing, bruises, and cuts.

This is not good. The fact that we were all young women was leading me more and more to the conclusion that we were in some bizarro sex trafficking ring. My hands curled tightly on the edge of the table, and I saw Kat, Theresa, and Melanie’s faces darken with thoughts just like mine.

But when a tall, broad shouldered man with silver hair, also wearing a US military uniform, strolled to the front of the room, my confusion only deepened.

“Why the fuck is the army here?” Kat hissed quietly from beside me.

Melanie’s dark eyes tracked the man’s movements. “Maybe they’re in costume or pretending. Maybe it’s some kind of setup.”

“OK, but look at this place,” I whispered, and we all cast furtive glances around the room. “This doesn’t seem like your average criminal enterprise. It’s not like we woke up in a warehouse somewhere.” The more I thought about the insanity of the situation, the less and less everything made sense. If this was a legitimate military operation of some kind, with the budget needed to create a building like this, why the hell were we kidnapped off the streets and drugged?

There were similar whispered conversations happening at the tables all around us, and the man at the front called out.

“Hello, everyone. I’m Colonel Anthony Jackson.”

“Colonel, that’s high up, right?” I asked, and Theresa nodded from across the table.

“I’m sure you’re all wondering why you’ve been brought here.”

Kat snorted, and a girl from somewhere in the room yelled out, “You mean abducted?”

Colonel Jackson didn’t even flinch. He ignored the girl who yelled and continued smoothly, his eyes grey and flat. A shiver ran through me.

“You have all been specially selected to serve your planet on a confidential mission. This mission is one of the first of its kind, and its secrecy is of the utmost importance. Thus, you were selected and taken before any information could be leaked.”

“Yo, what the actual fuck are you talking about?” Kat shouted, standing. Colonel Jackson eyed her, then shifted his gaze somewhere behind her, nodding once. Chapman stepped forward and clocked Kat on the back of the head with the butt of what looked to be a pistol.

“Oh my God,” I stammered, barely catching her as she fell with a yelp. She crumpled back into her seat beside me, rubbing her shaved head, which I could see was already swelling where she’d been hit. “Are you OK?”

“What do you think?” She replied, staring viciously at Chapman, then back at the Colonel. But he ignored her, as if she were a fly that had been squashed and was no longer buzzing annoyingly nearby.

“As I was saying, this mission is of the utmost secrecy. You have all been selected for your areas of expertise – chemistry, biology, anthropology, botany, linguistics.” My throat tightened at the mention of my PhD program. So it wasn’t some insane mistake that I’d been brought here.

“I don’t have any expertise! I’m just a student. Please, I want to go home.” The voice was a quiet and trembling one, coming from a girl I couldn’t see well on the other side of the room.

“I’m happy to say that if our mission is successful, you will all be allowed to go home,” Colonel Jackson replied, his voice devoid of emotion.

“Allowed?!” An angry voice piped up. “What do you mean, allowed? I’m an American citizen, I have rights.” Several heads nodded, and murmurs of agreement rippled through the crowd. It emboldened me, and I raised my voice.

“And what about me? I’m not even American! You kidnapped a Canadian citizen!”

Someone else shouted, “Moi aussi, I’m from France!”

The Colonel took a breath and closed his eyes for a moment, as if dealing with a bunch of irritating children. His expression filled me with rage. For him, apparently, this was just another annoying day on the job. But to us, it was our whole life, hanging in whatever fucked-up balance he had orchestrated.

After a moment, when most of the talking and questions had died down again, he spoke.

“While this particular mission is largely US military-run, rest assured the program at large is a global effort. The governments from every country represented in this room have sanctioned the mission and our actions.”

The breath rushed out of me, leaving me deflated and shaken. My own government was OK with this? They offered me up like some kind of lamb to slaughter?

But was it slaughter? Maybe the fact that this appeared to be some kind of legitimate, massively funded military operation meant that we weren’t about to disappear off the face of the earth, murdered and thrown in a ditch somewhere...

Another voice piped up, and I realized with a jerk that it was Melanie. Quiet Melanie from our table. Her eyes were hard, her voice steady.

“You said we get to go home if this mission is successful. What is it exactly that you want us to do?”