I take a step back right into the alien male who escorted me here.

He urges me forward with his hand. “It is safe.”

I don’t trust doctors, not even on Earth, and especially not the last Silver doctor I encountered. “No,” I say.

I hear a sigh from behind me, and then the alien grabs me, “Only to keep you from running.” Then I hear him speaking to someone else not here as he isn’t looking at anyone. I hear my name.

A minute later, my patient arrives. He’s clearly annoyed but looks at me and says, “Volunteer 4711. I know you are scared, but as I trusted you, you must trust me. What did you say to me, ‘You are safe.’” He searches my eyes as he speaks. Then he says it again, “You are safe. Understand?”

I cross my fist from my shoulder to my side to indicate my acquiescence.

Then my patient gives me another hand gesture I don’t recognize, and the doctor escorts me to the back of the clinic. He casually picks up a device as we walk. Once in the back, he asks me to get on a medical bed by gesturing to it. I obey, wondering if I’m going to have to get naked. But he makes no indication that I should strip, which is a relief. Once I’m lying down, the doctor runs the device he picked up over my body without touching me and then points to a nearby screen. I can see the outline of my body there. It’s amazing. He flicks through different layers, and I can see he or the computer is picking things up that are flashing purple. The doctor points to those on the screen and then points to my body, “I must … you.”

I assume the unknown word is ‘heal’ and not ‘kill,’ so I agree, hoping I just didn’t agree for him to murder me. The doctor then motions for me to lie down on a different bed that looks like a large tanning bed in a different part of the clinic. I get in it, and he tells me to close my eyes. I close them and wonder ludicrously if I’m going to get a tan, even though I know that’s not the case.

I don’t feel anything but warmth from this new bed. I try and relax, wondering what was wrong with me, besides the bruising on my skin. Unfortunately, I’ll never know given my limited language skills and I don’t have a hope with the Silvers’ written language; I don’t even think the Silver farmers knew how to read and write.

Once the doctor finishes, he slaps a silver bracelet on my wrist. I look at it and notice it’s got alien writing on it and readouts of some kind.

“What is this?” I ask.

“For your health,” the doctor replies and then points to one of his medical screens.

I assume he’ll be monitoring me, and I hope it’s just an extra precaution and that I won’t be in any life-or-death situations soon. The doctor escorts me to the front of the clinic, and I’m told to follow the same Silver male who brought me here.