He’s impatiently waiting for me by the entrance, and I walk towards him. When I reach him, he says, “Walk.”

I obey him. We walk through the corridors again. I walk in front of him, and he directs me. Neither of us are speaking more than directions. Then finally, he tells me to stop in front of a door. I do. He opens the door with a code. Inside are two Silver females.

My male escort explains something I can’t understand as the females inspect me. The only look on their faces is one of surprise. Then the male turns to me and says slowly, “Stay here. They will tell you what to do.” Then he leaves.

I look at the two females, one looks much older than me, and the other is about the same age as I am. They are dressed in the same military uniforms as the other males, but unlike the Silvers on the farm, they look well looked after.

The older and taller one says, “You will need different clothing.” She takes my hand gently. “Do not be afraid. You will learn, Volunteer 4711.”

“Learn to what?” I ask. I’m afraid to hear the answer, but I must know, as regardless of my wants, whatever it is, it will be a reality I must face.

“To be the valette to your master.”

“What’s a valette?”

“A valet, but a female does the job.”

“What’s a valet?” I ask, not knowing the word.

“Someone who sets out the master’s things and cleans,” the older Silver female explains. “It is easier than farm work.”

“Will he want to rut?” I ask. The females are so shocked I asked the question. I wonder if it was because I mentioned sex.

“No,” the older female replies. “Also, never say the word ‘rut’ it is for animals.”

“Okay,” I say. And then I must have visibly relaxed a little because the older woman squeezes my hand.

“You are safe,” she assures me.

The females kindly help me into some clothing not unlike what the rest of the crew is wearing. I notice when I disrobe that my skin has been healed, and I no longer have any of the bruises from the doctor or the burns from the transport. This makes me respect the ship’s doctor and my patient even more. They weren’t lying to me about helping me, and I’m beginning to expect that I wasn’t being lied to about my work here either. From what I can see already, this is better than being on the farm, especially if I won’t be whored out to random aliens.

I look at my reflection, and I’m clean, wearing a uniform like the others. A black tunic with black trousers, except our uniforms say our positions embroidered on them. I remember my patient’s had small pins on his. I can’t read the alien writing on my tunic, but the females assure me it reads, ‘Valet to the Commander.’ I don’t know what ‘commander’ means yet, but I guess someone important on this ship. I ask where our ship is going, and the females just motion in a circle. As most species don’t travel long distances in their starships but merely patrol their territory, I assume that’s what this ship is doing too. The females show me ‘the job’ as it were. Thankfully on Earth, I worked in hospitality for most of my life, so this feels almost familiar. I even have my own small cabin with a bed and a desk. After everything is explained to me, I ask, “When can I eat?”