Down the hallway, hang a right, through another previously invisible door, and stop.

Maggie opens a panel in the wall of this curved, otherwise plain room and pulls out the device that she had been speaking of. It looks like something straight out of a sci-fi holofilm.

The Albino runs her fingers over a screen in the back of its handle and then slowly moves it up and down my body from about a foot away. It feels...not unpleasant, exactly, but as though it would be after long exposure.

Long exposure is soon obviously necessary as tiny flakes of blood fall to the floor, leaving layers of the crusted stuff. We are getting nowhere.

"You're going to have to take off the jumpsuit," Maggie informs me after several minutes of her doing her best to clean me. "This is made to clean flesh, not clothes."

Obediently, I strip down - once I would have been self-conscious about being naked, but not anymore - and she runs the device up and down me once more. After a couple more times, I am free of the worst of the blood. A few patches remain between my toes and underneath my fingernails, and I start cleaning and chipping those off with my spit, fingers, and teeth.

Maggie opens another panel, this one much wider and taller, and rummages through several strange-looking outfits until she finds a white dress identical to the one I first wore. I slip it on, enjoying the familiar feeling of the gentle, airy skirt settling around my ankles.

"The others are soon going to change out of their jumpsuits as well," Maggie says. "Then we need to scan all of you."

"Scan us?"

"We'll measure brain activity, record body measurements, check for internal injuries, that sort of thing." Maggie begins to walk from the room and I struggle to keep up with her as we return to the main body of the spaceship, where the other teenagers and I reside.

I'm starting to get hungry, so I turn toward the cafeteria. Maggie places a delicate hand on my arm to halt me and I turn to see her offering, with her free hand, the pink steroid pill.

"But I'm strong enough now," I hiss, knowing she is doing something wrong.

Maggie presses the pill into my hand regardless of my words, rests one elegant finger against her lips with a small smile, and disappears through a hidden door. I look slowly down at the medicine.

I'm not going to take it. I'm not cheating.

The Voice smoothly steps in and soon, I am choking down the bitter powder in the middle of the hallway.

*
Soon, the other teenagers join me in the cafeteria, long after I have finished my meal. They, too, are dressed in their white, pajama-like outfits. Maggie is close on their heels.

"Your results are in," she says. "When you are ready, we can go to the initiation room and see where the final rankings stand."

"Quick question," I break in, and everyone instantly gains looks of exasperation. "What happens to the losers?"

Their eyes widen. They did not expect my question to be a rational one. Jake hides a smile behind his hand.

"Good question, Sage. The losers will likely die in future Trials. If somehow, they survive all ten, both the winners and the losers will be returned safely to Earth."

"Why?" Jake asks annoyedly, crossing his massive arms over his barrel-like chest. "It's not like that's much of a prize. There's nothing there for any of us."

He's right. Things would likely get even worse for us if we were questioned about the disappearance of the spaceship and crew. After all, we're all insane killers. People would jump to their own conclusions, conclusions that would probably end with execution sentences for all of us.

Maggie smiles, one eyebrow raising. "You want more incentive? Fine. The winner will get special...technical benefits."

"Like what?" Nicole demands.

"Nicole, your biggest wish is to never have had your stepfather in your life, correct? What if we were to...dispose of him and erase a few key memories? Your mother would forget the past...what, thirteen years? She would forget anything had ever happened. People would conveniently forget to notify her of the strange death of her criminal husband. And I'm sure with a little extensive technology, we could create a six-year-old clone to transfer your consciousness into." Maggie smiles slightly. "Get the idea?"

I try to imagine that - being reduced to a thirteen-year-old again. But I don't have a batch of painful memories that were my motive for killing. I can't just be wiped and start over. The Voice would stick with me, I'm sure of it. I am ruined.

It doesn't matter. I don't want to lose the Trials and die. I don't want to return to the insane asylum. The only option is to win and see what the Albinos can give me in return.

Jake has a strange expression on his face. He clenches his jaw and then suddenly strides over to the food counter to get a meal, deliberately turning his back on our conversation.

"After you eat, we'll take a look at the results," Maggie decides warmly. She takes a seat far from us and closes her eyes, going deathly still.

"Can she do that?" Deirdre whispers, sitting next to me. "Can she really fix everything?"

"Your mother is dead, Deirdre. Not even the Albinos can't bring back the dead."

"Sage is somewhat correct," says Maggie, surprising us all. "However, we can make very effective clones. We are centuries ahead of your primitive people, dear, and unlike humans, we have dedicated ourselves to science and technology instead of war and celestial beings. We could easily recreate your mother, Deirdre, although I don't think we'd waste the resources on transferring you into a slightly younger clone."

This makes me pause. So the Albinos could fix some things. They could bring back my victims, from the little girl to the elderly woman. They could heal my brother so he could go on, to attend college and maybe start a family. They could reset me to a thirteen-year-old living at home and I could turn myself into the police before the Voice took control again.

I can save everyone.

Well, now I have to win.

The Voice has no objections to this line of thought. It wants me to win the Trials, and if being driven by the desire to undo all its hard work is what motivates me to do so, then so be it. At least, that's the sense I'm getting from it.

Nicole, Xavier, and Deirdre finally grab food as well and hastily eat their meals so we can learn of our results.

We walk quickly down the hallway, Maggie leading, taking the path back to the initiation room that I feel like we walked a million years ago. So much has happened since. I am now able to walk it alone, with no support from Jake, still jacked up on the steroid pill. It is a wonderful feeling, this independence.

The same man who presented the history of the Albinos to us enters the room once we are settled. "Here for the Trial results?" he asks Maggie as if it is a casual business transaction, and she inclines her head slightly in confirmation. The man repeats the nod and pulls out a floppy, shaking it into stiffness and tapping its surface.

Soon, there is a noise behind us and we turn to see a projected leaderboard with rankings listed next to pictures of us, hanging a few feet in the air. Sure enough, I am at the top, holding #1 - that's no surprise. Jake is at #2 - I'm glad. Xavier ranks in at #3, but I'm sure that's only because he decided to follow my lead faster than Nicole, who's #4. Deirdre's in last place, #5; after all, she hadn't fought very well in the Trial - she had a gun and probably hadn't wanted to risk shooting one of us through the clones. I see the hard, determined set of her little face, but know enough to be able to tell that this has upset her.

"Sage is first, followed by Jake, Xavier, Nicole, and in last place, Deirdre," the man announces calmly. "Trial 2 will take place during your next conscious hours. After your escort takes you to the medical room for your data to be collected, you may use the remainder of the current conscious hours however you like."

We are ushered out of the room without another word, with no clues as to what the next Trial will be. We are merely led to a place where nothing good has happened to me in three years.

The medical wing.

*

Legit, Wattpad is confusing me. A few days ago, I was #600 in science fiction, and all of a sudden I'm, like, #171?! Don't get me wrong, I'm thrilled, just a little confused...

[Update: I now understand how rankings work and am laughing at my clueless little self...]