Two

  I tilt my head and stare at my sunken appearance in the mirror. I look awful. I have lost so much weight since starting this last treatment, and it shows. I look similar to the black and white images of Jewish WWII victims. Even my hospital gown reminds me of them. 

    I lift my hand and trace my cheekbones with my fingertips. It's been so long sense I felt beautiful. I cried when I relost my hair two years ago. I stopped doing by makeup shortly after because well what was the point. I had no one to impress and I was too tired to do it anyway. 

  Maybe before I die, mom could have a make up artist come give me a makeover. That would be cool. We could do a photo shoot to give mom some more memories before I am gone. I smile at the idea, and watch as my dry lips crack a little. I will ask mom when she gets here at eleven. It will probably make her sad at first, but I think it's a good idea. 

    I wash my hands and walk back to my bed. It's nice to be free of the IV pole. I don't have to worry about lines or cords. 

   As I make it to my bed, a knock sounds on my hospital door. 

   "Come in," I call, and a sharply dressed woman with a briefcase comes in and locks the door behind her. 

    As she approaches my bed, I climb in. I have already had multiple people come in and talk to me about the legal side of things, and she looks just like the rest of the hospital officials. Overly serious and ready to make sure my family members can't sue. 

   "Good Morning, Ms. Dunn. My name is Laura Cummings. I work for our government. I would like to speak to you about an exciting opportunity," the woman says, and I laugh as I look over her face. 

   She is a pretty woman. Probably about thirty five years old. She has brown eyes and dark hair that is pulled back in a tight bun. She doesn't look like someone who would be making jokes with a dying girl, but any exciting opportunity in regards to me has to be a joke. 

  "Sorry to burst your bubble but I am dying. I wouldn't be able to enjoy an exciting opportunity unless it involves donating my corpse to science which I already agreed to do," I reply, and she frowns a little before grabbing the chair my mother normally sits in. 

   She sets the chair next to my bed and sits down. She opens her brief case and pulls out a vanilla file that has my name on the tab. She opens it and clears her throat. 

  "Krystal Dunn. Age: Nineteen. Height: 5'5" current weight: 124 

Terminally ill. Emergency contact: Elizabeth Dunn, Mother. Known family: Elizabeth Dunn, mother. You are a perfect candidate, and what makes you perfect is your circumstances," she says as she lifts her eyes from the file to find me completely confused. 

   "Perfect for what," I ask after a moment, and her brown eyes light up a little. 

  

  "A new life. A healthy life," she says with a small smile, and my eyebrows furrow even more. 

  "I don't understand? Is there some kind of mind transfer technology I don't know about," I ask, and she smirks a little. 

  "No, but that sounds like a good idea for the future. I am offering you a chance at life, but you would have to agree to do something that sounds crazy. But before I can tell you what that something is, I must ask you a personal question. It's the last requirement to confirm your eligibility," she says, and I grow even more confused. 

  "Okay. What," I ask, and she leans towards me with a serious face. 

  "You must answer honestly. Punishment for lying is death. Any perks given will be stripped away. Do you understand," she asks, sounding harsh, and I nod. 

  "Yes," I whisper, and she nods before sitting back. 

  "Are you are virgin," she asks, and my mouth falls open. 

  "What does the state of my virginity have to do with anything," I snap, and she stares at me unaffected. 

  "It has to do with everything, Ms. Dunn. I need you to answer the question. Very few women fit the qualifications to be harvested, but I still have other candidates who I need to speak with before it is too late," she says, and my brain wheels begin to spin faster. 

  "Harvested," I question, and she just stares at me while I process the term. 

   "Your answer, Ms. Dunn," she says, and I swallow. 

  "I'm a virgin," I whisper after a moment, and she nods. 

  "Excellent, then I can proceed with the interview. Have you ever considered that Earth wasn't the only planet that could support life," she asks and my brain literally stalls due to the flip of topic. 

"What," I ask, and she doesn't miss a beat. 

  "Aliens, Ms. Dunn. Do you believe in aliens," she asks, and I shake my head. 

  "Umm...no. But I don't understand. Why are you asking me something like that," I ask, and she acts as if I didn't speak. 

   Her demeanor is completely business now as she digs in her briefcase once more. She pulls out what looks to be a contract and looks back at me with a somewhat bored expression.  

   "Aliens are real. The Earth is small compared to other planets that support life, and we are considered behind in every aspect. Technology. Physical ability. Intelligence. The other beings in the universe laugh at what we consider transportation and healthcare. I know this information is sudden and completely unbelievable, but it is true. Currently, the Earth is part of a treaty called The Harvest Peace act. More than half of the planets that support life have also signed. Due to our standing in the universe, Earth is only required to participate in one of the treaties conditions. Every ten years, five women are to be sent to the Harvest's Mating Tournament. The idea behind the concept is to mix the different races of beings so harmony can exist. More then forty years ago, the universe experienced a major war. Many were dying, and Earth was going to be caught in the cross hairs. Luckily the quarreling planets held a meeting and came up with the Harvest Peace Act. You will be one of the five women that will be sent to represent the Earth," Laura explains rapidly, and my mouth falls open. 

  My brain explodes with information before disbelief begins to creep in. I close my mouth and tilt my head before laughing at her again. 

  "My cancer isn't in my brain, you know. I am lucid," I say, and she nods before handing me the contract she pulled from her bag. 

  "I am aware of what type of cancer affects your body. I am also aware that you are running out of time. The government wants to keep the existence of aliens secret, so the selection of candidates is strict. Only terminally ill women of age can be considered. The virginity rule is listed in the treaty. Women going to the mating games are basically prizes for the galaxies strongest warriors. Because while the majority of the planets signed the peace treaty and stopped fighting, there were planets that did not. The allied planets are still at war with this small portion of beings. Earth is under protection of the treaty because we send women to the tournament. Other planets under the protection of the treaty not only send women but they also send soldiers to aid in the war. Humans are considered to be too weak to fight. So Earth is not required to send soldiers," Laura states, and I begin to shake my head. 

  "Look, lady, I don't believe any of this. There is no way any of that is true," I say, and she sighs before tapping the contract in my lap. 

  "If you sign this contract, you relinquish your status as a citizen of the Earth. You understand that you will be saved from your current illness, and in return, you agree to marry a male that chooses you at the tournament. From that point on you are a citizen of his home planet. He is required by tournament law to provide for you. These men are considered to be the heroes of the galaxy. They are all wealthy and excited to be participating in the tournament. I have been in correspondence with past women sent to harvest recently, and they are all blissfully happy. This contract is your ticket to life. Only death awaits you here," Laura says, and my next snarky comment flies out the window. 

  I glance down at the papers in my lap and begin to read. Everything she has told me is listed on the front page along with a bunch of legal terms I don't understand. 

  "What if he cheats or hurts me," I ask as my brain begins to believe the craziness. 

  "He would be punished, and you would be a free woman. Their culture is very different from ours. Males are protectors. Their entire world would shun them if it was revealed they harmed their mate. And cheating is unheard of. Many of them have their own mating traditions that link them to their partners for life," Laura explains, and my mind tries to weigh in on the options. 

  "How would I be better," I whisper and she actually smiles. 

  "Their technology far exceeds ours. They cured cancer long ago. So you will be cured once you arrive. Before you ask, humans aren't considered trustworthy enough to be given the information. They consider us barbaric. They dislike almost everything about us. They consider our women beautiful, though. So you should be chosen quickly since you are a good-looking woman," Laura says, and I shake my head as my face comes to mind. 

  "I look sickly," I argue, and she laughs. 

  "Yes, currently, you look sickly. Just wait. Life as you know it is nothing like the life you will have there. So have you chosen to sign," Laura asks, and I stare into her brown eyes for at least a minute before responding. 

  "Can I take my mom," I ask, and Laura frowns. 

  "Unfortunately, no one can know but you and the agency I work for. After you sign, your death will be staged. Your mother will grieve just as she would if I hadn't offered you this opportunity. Secrecy is of the utmost importance here, and your mother is a liability. You are not. You are sick and could be disposed of quickly," Laura says, and my mouth falls open. 

   "Do you mean if I choose not to go, your agency kills me," I ask, and she nods once. 

  "Precisely. I generally do not disclose that, but yes," she replies, and my stomach turns. 

  "How many people have you killed," I ask, and she smiles. 

   "I have only been in this position for seven years. All past harvests were done before I received my promotion. I have corresponded with past candidates and interviewed a handful of candidates for this harvest. The first three were not virgins, so nothing was disclosed to them, and I left. The fourth chose not to go. The agency is handling that according to policy. I am not involved in that portion of the process. You are the fifth woman I have spoken with. I have eleven more candidates to interview. Hopefully, I can get five. If not, more drastic measures are to be taken, but that's not a part of my job. You are in the process of dying as it stands now, Krystal. What is your decision," she asks directly, and my mother's face comes to mind. 

  I know mom would tell me to go. She would want me to live. But how do I leave her behind. I know  I'm dying, but she has a little more time with me. How do I cut that time short? How can I be that cruel to someone who loves me? She is coming in a few hours so we can chat and spend time together.

  "If I said I believe you and I will sign...How much time do you give me," I ask, and she shakes her head. 

  "You would be processed immediately. I am the only human on this planet entrusted with a teleportation beacon. Once you sign, I turn it on and it sends your location to the medical center. They are aware of the condition of Earth's candidates and have prepared accordingly. Our harvest participants are sent to a medical facility before they join the other women sent by other planets. But back to your question, you aren't given any time after you sign. They transport you instantly. My agency then takes care of everything here. The hospital notifies your family, and their grieving process begins. It is not ideal for them, but unfortunately, your death is inevitable at this point. They will be grieving soon anyway," she says coldly, and I fight the urge to slap her in her logical mouth. 

  "How can you be so emotionless? How would you feel if you had the opportunity to save yourself, but in doing so, you forgo giving your loved one a chance to say goodbye to you," I ask loudly, and she smiles sadly. 

  "I would take the opportunity...Let me tell you something, Krystal. My baby sister was sent in the last harvest. I believed she was dead for so long. I cried every day because I thought she had died a meaningless death after fighting for so long. But when I landed this job and discovered my sister's name in the records, I felt nothing but joy. She is alive. She is happy and loved. She has a child. I am so thankful she signed and chose to give herself life. She was shocked when I was the one who called to get an update on the women sent in the harvest. She told me she had felt so guilty for leaving me, but I told her how happy I was for her. If your mom loves you as much as you think she does, she would want you to sign. Live Krystal," Laura says, and I stare at her for a few seconds before holding out my trembling hand. 

  "Can I have a pen," I whisper.