Khanavai Warrior Bride Games

There are a million ways to end up in the Alien Bride Lottery, but it takes only one. Every unmarried female human over the age of 21 gets entered once a year. You can also accept extra entries for legal infractions—instead of paying a parking fine, for example, you can request an extra entry. Lots of women do that. I mean, why not? The chances are astronomical that your name will get chosen to be one of the hundred or so women who get shipped off to space every year.

Somehow, I knew my name was going to be drawn in the Bride Lottery—the hellish agreement that Earth's leaders had made to sell us to the aliens who protected our planet. I'd grown up with the propaganda. It was our civic duty. Men registered for the draft; women registered for the Bride Lottery. No way in hell was I going to be handed over to some giant man to be brutalized into bearing his children. Instead, I cut out my bio-tracker and walked away from everything. I should have realized they'd send one of those hulking, brightly colored aliens to track me down and bring me back.

I thought I'd escaped being given to an alien warrior. I was wrong. I was one hour away from washing out of the Alien Bride Games. None of the Khanavai warriors had chosen me, and I was scheduled on the next shuttle off the filming station. Then, a bright red alien passed me in a hallway—and the next thing I knew, we were all over each other. Bad enough that my name had been drawn in the Bride Lottery. Now, even though they're supposedly over, I'm back in the Games. And not the usual ones, either—a whole new set of challenges, just for me. Guess it'll make for good television back home.