Assistant for the Alien Prince by Tammy Walsh
Jessica
The debt wasas bad as Robyn Jensen had said it would be.
I cursed my father for being so selfish and shortsighted.
If the banks wouldn’t issue him with a loan, why hadn’t he taken that as a sign that perhaps he shouldn’t have it?
Instead, he’d forged ahead, taking no heed for his family’s welfare, their futures, or their inheritance.
I’d been raised in a rich and affluent family, and when it was suddenly stripped from me at the tender age of seventeen, I found myself at a disadvantage.
Although Tina was my father’s favorite, she lacked the business acumen necessary to run a large company.
Everyone knew it—even my father and Tina.
Tina bore no grudge against me taking the top job, so long as she could work in the PR or marketing departments.
She would have been good at it too, and it might have prevented her from living her current lifestyle—hopping from one job to another, constantly on the lookout for a rich husband to support her.
She was every bit like our father, and no amount of coaching or counseling was going to deter her from her perceived destiny.
My entire life I’d been groomed to one day take over my father’s place as CEO, and now I found myself saddled with even more of his debt.
Five hundred thousand credits, to be exact.
Five hundred thousand!
What had he spent it on? I wondered.
It clearly hadn’t been on developing the company.
The family had no more assets and it fell to me to decide what to do next.
The only thing of any value I possessed was my aunt’s house and I would die before selling it.
It could end our debt problems but it would mean forfeiting my dream of living in the countryside.
To lose that would be to strip me of the only desire I’d ever had.
I wouldn’t sell it, not unless there was absolutely no other option.
The loan shark agreed to give me two weeks to find a solution to my debt problem.
Miss it, and he was going to “send the boys around.”
I didn’t like the sound of that—even less than I liked the sound of the banks doing the same with their bailiffs.
At least the banks had a code of conduct to follow, nothing like the loan shark my father had done business with.
Five hundred thousand!
The good news was the party I’d organized the night before had gone off without a hitch.
Everyone had a good time—everyone but me.
Tina had managed to snag several rich and famous men’s communicator details, which I had no doubt would lead exactly where the others had:
Nowhere.
I didn’t mention the debt issue to her until the following morning, letting my sister enjoy the evening even if I hadn’t.
Once I told her, she choked on her coffee, splattering the dining table.
“What are we going to do?” she cried. “We don’t have that kind of money! I thought we paid off all the debts?”
“I have to find another event to organize,” I said. “A big one. The biggest one.”
“And what’s that?”
“The Olympics.”
Tina’s mouth fell open and she ran to the spotless calendar on the wall.
“But the Olympics aren’t for another three years! And the Winter Olympics… another six months!”
Then what about the top sporting events? I wondered.
Or award ceremonies?
I hissed through my teeth and slammed my fist on the table.
It took years to develop the necessary network to snag those contracts.
Damn it!
I was grasping at straws.
I needed to keep my feet on the ground and think practically.
Even if I called up my celebrity pals, I doubted I could get more than one or two private parties at most.
I could earn a lot but nowhere near the half a million credits I needed.
“We could ask the family for help,” Tina said in a shy voice.
I almost laughed.
Poor, naive Tina.
When our business went belly-up, the entire family scattered and we rarely saw each other again—only at life-defining moments like weddings and funerals.
With no more family business gatherings, we morphed into an estranged family.
They seemed to blame me and Tina for our father’s actions, as if we should have reined him in somehow.
How could we?
We were teenagers at the time!
Asking them for help in a situation like this was like asking the wind not to blow.
Where the other debts had belonged to the business, this particular debt belonged to our father.
To his closest family members.
To us.
There was precisely zero chance they would help us.
They were just as poor as we were now, struggling to make ends meet.
“Maybe I can negotiate with the lender,” I said. “I’d have to pay the debt off over a few years but at least he wouldn’t send the boys around.”
Tina fell back onto her seat.
“The interest rates will be eye-watering. We’ll be little more than slaves.”
What was all this “we” talk, suddenly?
Tina could never hold down a regular job, even with the loan shark’s threats hanging over us.
I’d have to work like a dog and earn the money myself.
The solution to our problem flashed like a hideous neon sign at the front of my mind.
A solution I didn’t want to confront.
But what other choice was there?
“I’m going to have to join the Intergalactic Employment Agency.”
“You mean, work off-planet?” Tina said.
She looked pained, and for good reason.
We’d always been together.
Us against the world.
To be apart now would feel like a limb had been cut off.
“I don’t see any other option, do you?” I said.
Tina opened her mouth to argue but what was there to argue about?
She stared at her hands in her lap as I called the employment agency and made an appointment.
Two hours later,I found myself in the Intergalactic Employment Agency waiting room.
A dozen other applicants sat clutching their resumes, muttering speeches they would make when they met their employment officers.
I probably should have been doing the same, I thought, but I couldn’t will myself into it.
The office was very busy, with an employment officer sitting behind each of the two dozen desks.
Piles of documents perched precariously on the corners like paper turrets.
Who used paper in this day and age?
I guess not all the alien cultures were as advanced as ours yet.
I wondered where I would end up going.
An advanced civilization like the W’oari?
Or backwater cities like Slarr?
Intergalactic Employment Agency contracts could be very lucrative.
The rates were often several multiples of what could be earned on Earth for doing the same job.
I only hoped they were enough to cover the debt Father had saddled us with.
When my name was called, I was handed a token with the number “48” on it.
I heard snippets of the employees’ conversations at the other employment desks as they spewed their practiced speeches at disinterested agency officials.
The employment officer at table forty-eight was a disheveled, baggy-skinned woman with wiry hair and gold-rimmed glasses circa 1950.
One elbow was perched on the desktop, her fingers curled as if missing the cigarette that should have been permanently clutched between her yellowed fingers.
As I approached, she motioned—with barely a jerk—toward the plastic chair opposite.
I took a seat and grimaced at the warmth I could feel from the previous occupant.
I glanced at my officer’s nametag.
Virginia.
“Name?” Virginia said without even looking up.
I told her, along with my age, address, and other personal details.
“Resume?” she said with the same bored expression.
I handed it to her and she scanned through it with an expert eye.
“You’re an event organizer?”
I nodded.
“And what’s that when it’s at home?”
“I organize events. Big ceremonies, parties, things like that.”
Virginia tapped the keys of her holo-keyboard and holographic images flashed up with a dozen suggestions.
“Some of these positions perhaps aren’t as prestigious as what you’re used to but they pay a good deal more, I’d wager. Are you averse to children?”
“No. Why?”
“I’m seeing many postings for children’s party organizers.”
Children’s parties.
I had never arranged one before and it made me feel sick to my stomach that I would have to lower myself to that now.
“What’s the pay?” I said.
“Fifty thousand credits.”
“Per month?”
“Per year. You’ll work for a company that specializes in children’s parties. You’ll organize two or three parties on a weekly basis.”
“For fifty thousand?”
It was nowhere near the five hundred thousand I needed.
“Do you have anything that pays more?”
“Let’s see…”
Virginia skimmed through each of the listings.
“Sixty thousand. Forty thousand. Eighty thousand. A hundred thousand. That appears to be our highest paying job.”
“One hundred a year?”
“It appears event organizers of your stature aren’t in high demand. If you were to lower your sights a little, you could earn good money organizing smaller events.”
Great… except I needed half a million credits within the next two weeks!
“Are you sure there’s nothing else?” I said.
Virginia turned back to the entries and scrolled through them once more.
“Nope. That appears to be everything.”
I’d assumed there would be something I could do.
There was a galaxy of work out there, after all!
Surely there had to be something for me!
Now what was I supposed to do?
“Would you like me to give you the details of the job paying a hundred thousand credits?” Virginia said.
I shook my head.
“No, thank you. I’ll have to try and find something else. Thanks for your time.”
I got to my feet and, a little stunned, shuffled away.
Ten years of working in the event organizing biz and no one in the galaxy needed my services.
No one.
Was everything I’d done a complete waste of time?
How was I supposed to earn the credits I needed now?
Everyone had always spoken about the Intergalactic Employment Agency as if it were the golden ticket to guaranteed riches.
Maybe it was for those with the right skills, I thought.
But not me.
Unless…
Unless I could work multiple jobs.
A handful of the top-paying positions would net me half of what I needed.
Sure, I wouldn’t sleep and the year would be the worst of my life but it had to be better than the ideas I had right now…
Which was absolutely nothing.
Maybe I could convince Tina to join me and together we could earn what we needed in just one year.
The lender would insist on better terms, so it might take us two full years but at least our problems would be over.
Or we could disappear among the stars…
And never look back or return to Earth.
“Hold up! I’ve got a live one!”
I turned back at the craggy voice.
Virginia didn’t look in my direction or wave her arm to get my attention, and for a moment, I thought maybe I’d made a mistake.
“A job was just posted,” she said.
I shuffled back and took a seat as Virginia leaned forward and squinted at the floating letters in front of her nose.
“They’re looking for someone immediately, for a one-week assignment.”
“And the payment…?”
“Let me scroll down here…”
Please, please, please let it be the answer to my prayers!
Virginia’s eyes bulged.
“Four hundred thousand credits! That has to be a record!”
Four hundred thousand…
Close but not half a million…
If I made the payment to the lender, I could pay back the rest in installments back on Earth.
Surely the loan shark would be open to that idea?
“Where is it?” I said.
“Cev.”
Cev.
Known as a hospitable hellhole and populated with barbarians and warmongers.
And they needed me to organize an event for them?
What did they want me to do?
Arrange a mass murder?
“The payment’s so high due to a highly febrile situation at the moment,” Virginia said, and even she looked apologetic. “War could break out any second. But look at it this way, war is unlikely to break out within the week you’re there.”
Yes, but there was always the chance it would.
“Would you like me to apply for you?” Virginia said. “I can’t imagine a job like this will hang around for long.”
I definitely didn’t want the job.
Knowing my luck, I would get decapitated the moment I arrived.
If I went to the hostile planet, I might never come out again.
And if I stayed on Earth, the loan shark would make my life a living hell too.
Really, what was the difference?
Tina.
She was the difference.
I might not take this risk if it were only my life on the line, but with Tina involved…
“Yes,” I heard my voice saying, as if I wasn’t in control of my vocal cords. “Apply.”
With two swift movements, the application was sent.
Virginia scanned the rest of the job posting.
“No holidays, obviously. It’s just for one week. No insurance. No medical. But they’ll provide transport. They must need you fast as they’re going to send you via the royal shuttlecraft—”
She pulled up sharp, adjusted her gold-rimmed glasses, and squinted at the dancing letters again.
“Oh, my… I wish I’d known this before sending the application…”
“What?” I said, my heart in my throat. “What is it?”
“The employers… they’re the royal family.”
The royal family?
Never mind the threat of me being kidnapped.
The real threat was them taking me as a slave.
And with the threat of war breaking out, the royal family would be the very first to be attacked!
To hell with this! I thought. Being alive and in debt was better than being dead!
“Is there any way to reverse sending my application?”
“Yes, but—”
Bing!
Virginia’s eyes zipped over to the notification and the message opened automatically.
In big bold red letters were the words:
CONGRATULATIONS! YOUR APPLICATION HAS BEEN ACCEPTED!
My stomach fell between my feet.
“D-Do I have to a-accept it?” I said, barely able to get the words out from my jittering jaw. “Surely I n-need to s-sign something?”
Virginia nodded.
“Yes, but the employers have requested you sign it in person. On Cev.”
I gulped.
“Do I h-have to go?”
“Yes. But you don’t need to sign the contract. I suggest you go and check out the offer’s terms. But be careful. After you sign it, there will be no going back.”
No going back…
Why was that fast becoming the tagline of my life?
