Title: Coin

 

Elodie stares up at the sky. Nothing yet. Her fingers press hard against the coin, digging it into her hand. She imagines it breaking the skin, sinking down into flesh of her palm. She sees the women who held it before her.

The one in a court room lit by oil lamps, dressed in clothes made by her own calloused hands, the coin against her breast, tied to a piece of cheap string which looped around her neck. She’s accused of killing a man. The jurors are likely to dismiss her as a whore. But the coin sits warm against her chest, as she sits on the stand and convinces them of the truth: she was attacked, the killing was self-defence.

The one who was a spy in The Great War, every word, every movement, every breath a performance behind enemy lines. Until the final interrogation. The coin cold in her shoe as she’s lead to execution.

The one who was a CEO, the coin warm in her pocket in every negotiation.

Elodie comes back to herself, the space ships are close enough to see now, like stars in the daytime. The entire world in the balance. She wonders if the coin will let her wield it.

 

“Good luck,” someone whispers.

Deep breath in, and out. Her fist clenched tight around the coin. She swallows. “You are entering the territory of the planet Earth. Turn away now or you will be destroyed.”

Her heart sinks. The coin is cold.

The ships draw closer, undeterred by any of the worlds defences.      

The mothership lands, too close, not even fifty feet away.

Elodie stands completely still as an alien approaches.

 

“You have a coin. We want it.”

She looks it right in the eyes. “I don’t have a coin.”

The alien blinks, once, twice, three times.

The coin is warm. “You should leave.”