Page 48 of Alien Jeopardy

“They were sent to the mines when I was seven.” Rex chews thoughtfully as I cringe. “My parents, at least. My brothers, I think, were sent to the fields near the capitol. They were good to me. Too outspoken, though.”

“Oh, shit,” I say. What am I supposed to say to that? I’m horrified. “Seven? Why? Does that happen a lot?”

“Oh yes. If you disagree with the king…” He clears his throat, glancing meaningfully at one of the drones filming overhead. “We all serve at his pleasure.”

I stare at him, at a total loss. “That’s awful.”

“Is it better on Earth, then? The human zones on my planet are far from perfect. Perhaps you have a better system than we do. Humans have enough to eat on Earth? Medicine is easy to get and affordable?”

Well. I spear a piece of steak, popping it in my mouth.

It doesn’t taste nearly as good as it did before I broached this topic of conversation.

“I’m not sure we do have it better,” I say slowly, because he’s still waiting for an answer. “I’m sorry your family was taken from you.”

“As am I, Ellison. As am I.” He heaves a sigh. “Things will be better on Sueva.” His orange-gold eyes gleam in the dim light. “Just think, food and medicine, readily available. Tech that is supposed to be used for everyone, not just the elite. Land of our own, and our lives whatever we want to make them.”

His wistful yearning is contagious, and I find myself caught up in envisioning what that would be like.

A life to make whatever I would want from.

Not some insurance underwriting job where I dread spending the day. All the dreams I once had were tidily swept under the bed after the Roth invaded.

What would I even do if I were to start all over?

“What are you thinking? You look upset.” Rex’s tone is careful.

“What would you do?” His wings rustle at my question, and I blunder on, trying to clarify my thought. “If we make it to Sueva, I mean.”

“Other than worship you, you mean?”

I laugh at that, but he doesn’t, and it brings me up short to realize he’s not joking.

“Uh, yeah, that’s what I mean. For work, you know?” I pause. “What did you do for work?”

His expression flickers, eyes narrowing as he looks away. Damn, this is so awkward. Maybe it’s rude to ask about work in their culture? I have no flipping clue.

“I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable?—”

“You’re not. You don’t make me anything but hopeful. I was conscripted into His Majesty’s armed guard. I mostly worked at the capitol gates.”

“Oh.” My nose wrinkles. That doesn’t sound good. Conscripted… “They forced you into their military?”

His face goes wooden. “It is an honor to serve.”

“What about before then? Did you find a family to take you in, I mean, after your mom and dad…” I shove some steak into my mouth before I can finish digging that conversational hole any deeper. Sheesh.

“I slept on the streets. Eventually, I was able to find work as a driver for those unable to fly in the capitol.”

“A driver,” I repeat through my mouthful of steak.

“Yes. The same type of cart I pulled you in for our challenge today.”

My eyes widen, and understanding slams into me. No wonder he didn’t ask for help. He knew exactly what he was doing, and I would have slowed him down.

It still bothers me that he didn’t want me to help him because I’m pretty far from perfect, but I get it now.

I swallow the steak hastily. “The dancing? I mean the, uh, style part of it?”