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her just because
she wasn’t on the list? A scolding? She’d have to eat dinner in her room instead
of at the table with the other guests?
    “Astronautics,” Ashley said with confidence when he got to her.
Now she would get to see the rest of Disneyland. This area was so sterile and
impersonal. Hopefully all aliens weren’t as boring as these few and their whole
planet wasn’t so colorless.
    A pair of aliens bookended her and grabbed her arms. Their
fingers bit into her flesh and she jerked away. “Hey. Try a little finesse, why
don’t you.”
    Neither of them spoke and seized her again, tighter. She
planted her feet, only to be pulled off of them. The aliens dragged her toward
the hallway where everyone else had disappeared, twisting one of her ankles.
Pins and needle erupted all the way down her foot.
    “Let go!” she demanded. “You can’t do this to me.”
    They ignored her.
    A flash from the second floor caught her attention. A uniformed
alien watched the ground floor proceedings from behind a glass wall.
    Déjà vu, or something like a repressed memory, buzzed between
them as she locked gazes with the alien. A shiver rippled across her back.
Twice. Authority emanated from his rigid stance and he wore his uniform like an
extension of his skin. If he walked onto a set, everyone would snap to attention
in zero point four seconds—even the blasé production assistants.
    Nobody had to tell her he was the one in charge.
    Panels opened into the sterile hallway. It stretched beyond her
sight, seamlessly, the air more stale than eight hours into a flight to Monte
Carlo.
    The Prozac twins halted and the pause allowed her to gain her
footing. Another panel flipped, and just as she was about to kick one of the
aliens, they guided her inside the small, gray room. So much for the hope of any
color. The panel closed, sealing in the three of them. More panels flipped and a
long, white table slid out.
    Oh, now she got it. They expected her to go through some sort
of mandatory detox routine so they didn’t exchange deadly germs. She relaxed her
taut muscles and took a deep breath. So their cultures were different and they
needed some lessons on how to interact with humans.
    She could teach them.
    They tapped on the devices in their hands. Every alien carried
one, so it must be important. The whole idea here was to exchange knowledge and
what better way than to learn their technology. “What’s that thing you’re
tapping on?” she asked.
    Nothing. Not even a flicker to show they’d heard her. Maybe
they didn’t speak English, but when she’d said—
    With a muted buzz, skeletal arms with metal pinchers extended
from behind a panel and tore her clothes off. Every stitch, even the wig.
Painfully.
    “Ow! What kind of party is this?” she demanded, rubbing a
chaffed arm. These aliens were uncivilized. At least on the set, assistants
scheduled nude scenes with plenty of notice. “Give me my clothes back!”
    The arm disappeared, clutching her tattered clothes. She worked
hard to stay a size two, and even an alien had to appreciate how good she looked
naked, but this wasn’t what she’d signed up for.
    “I’m not kidding. Give me my clothes.” She’d be happy to never
see that drab suit again but the room was frigid and the jacket pocket held her
lucky lipstick case. Lucky and irreplaceable.
    The aliens ignored her and dragged her to the table, then
lifted her onto it with iron-hard hands. Clamps shot out and pinned her against
the table.
    She was trapped.
    “Hey! Get these off me.” She flexed her chest and wiggled her
legs but the clamps didn’t budge. The metal was cold, so cold, and burned into
her flesh.
    What happened to the intergalactic summit between species she’d
been promised? Earth had sent its most respected scientists to this planet and
this was how they were treated? A lead role was so not worth it. The Academy could keep the Oscar. She wanted off this table, out
of this claustrophobic room and