by Petra Landon
When the Matura had first docked over Terra Agri 5, the unexpected guests had generated excitement amongst her people. Visitors to their rural planet were rare and any interested in trading with the Terrans rarer still. The Matura did not fly a flag of allegiance to either the Kampuchan Alliance or the Budh-Ketaari Empire but its Captain assured the Terran Elders that the ship had the necessary permits to trade with both warring factions. Reassured by the presence of the Captain and his deputy, both Keeyori, the Elders had taken them at their word. The Keeyori, a nomadic race of traders, had remained unaligned in the war and were known to facilitate trade between various factions, worlds and peoples on their Trade Spheres in neutral space. It was said that no one willing to trade was ever turned away from the Keeyori space stations renowned for their lax laws.
Sila had been more skeptical of their motives. Her time away from Terra Agri 5, short though it had been, had given Sila a different and broader perspective than her people. Since her return to Terra Agri, she had found herself questioning many aspects of her life and her world that she had taken for granted before. The presence of strangers on her agrarian planet had seemed too much a coincidence to her, coming as it did a few months after her own homecoming on a Passenger Transport. Mindful of the First Commander’s warning, Sila had been very careful to reveal few details of her world to her fellow passengers on the Transport. One of the crew had proved particularly inquisitive and a guarded Sila had taken care to draw the picture of a planet with little technology and no resources, but with a mostly young and aggressive population capable of defending it against outsiders. She’d been rather pleased with her adroitness in convincing the crew member that raiding her planet for its sparse resources would not be worth the time, cost and people it would require. But since the arrival of the Keeyori ship, Sila had a sneaking suspicion that she might not have done as good a job as she’d assumed.
The months back on Terra Agri after the fifteen day passage on the Transport had not been as content an existence as before her inadvertent capture by the Ur’quay. She’d found herself lonely and restless, unable to find contentment in her usual activities of gathering and sculpting. Her sculptures had gained in popularity at the neighboring Trade Exchange, garnering her some fine clothing and rare luxuries for her home. But her short stint on the Henia and her conversations with the First Commander, sparse though they had been, had fired her imagination about the world outside. That had also reflected in her sculptures which had taken on more details and brighter colors than before. She had never again attempted another bust of the First Commander though — not after the one she’d left behind for him in his rest-chamber. Occasionally, she would find herself wondering whether he had been surprised by her gift. In the note left behind for him, she’d asked him to run a heat torch over the bust to prevent wear and tear over time, interspersed with her gratitude for the many kindnesses he’d shown her during her time on his ship.
The bare-bones story of her capture by an unknown ship whose benevolent crew had returned her unharmed to her world after their mistake had come to light had made the rounds on Terra Agri. Her neighbors and friends had been pleased to see her and Elder Arturo, who had been her father’s friend, had worn suspiciously bright eyes. Not particularly close to anyone before being taken, Sila suspected that they would have forgotten her in time had she not been returned. Her lack of a family meant that since she had never evinced much interest in a mate, no one had pressed the Council of Elders to nominate one for her.
Sila had fallen to moping at her increasingly dissatisfied existence but the arrival of the small party of Keeyori had shaken her from it. After much indecision, her suspicions had prompted her to meet Elder Arturo — he had proven willing to listen to her concerns in the past. Since the First Commander had requested her to not reveal the Ur’quay, Sila had kept the details deliberately vague. She had explained her accidental captor’s warning regarding the threat of raiders amidst the ravages of war, before hesitantly launching into an explanation of her unique ability of the mind. Elder Arturo had heard her out patiently and asked her a few questions about her passage home on the Transport. Sila, who had expected skepticism and disbelief about her gift, had been shocked by the Elder’s reaction to it. Her unusual ability had been taken in stride, without any curiosity, astonishment or doubt. At Sila’s obvious consternation, the older male had smiled, and explained kindly that she was not the first to entrust him with this secret. Sila’s father had confided in his friend about her mother’s difficulties with a similar gift. After that, she had found it easier to make her request, asking to sit in on the upcoming closed-door trade negotiations between the Council of Elders and the Keeyori traders. Sila, who had spent a few sleepless nights on the matter, unsure about her ability to control her gift, was nevertheless determined to give it a try. Sila had offered to use her ability to scan the Keeyori and attempt to decipher their intentions. She had never deliberately mind-read anyone. Her whole life had been an endeavor in trying to block the thoughts of others. And after her experience with the Ur’quay, Sila suspected that probing the Keeyori would entail leaving her own mind unguarded. But she had made the offer to Elder Arturo, trusting him to make the right call. The Elder had reluctantly agreed, after much thought, but with a warning that she would get only one opportunity to make the attempt. He didn’t feel entirely comfortable with the decision, since she would also inadvertently hear the thoughts of the other Elders on the Council involved in the negotiations.
The ensuing trade negotiations had been rather strange. Sila had ignored the conversation, to concentrate on separating the thoughts of the Keeyori Captain from the cacophonous voices bombarding her mind from the others in the Council Hall. It had been a tough and exhausting endeavor and Sila knew that she owed her success to the First Commander. If her mind had not been fortified by his tutoring her in the art of barricading it or the daily exercises with the Examiner she had religiously kept up on her return, she would have blacked out from the pain and din of the conflicting thoughts crowding her mind. At the conclusion of the meeting, a shaken Sila had been able to warn Elder Arturo of the Keeyori’s objectives — having concluded that Terra Agri 5 possessed nothing of value, the traders intended to kidnap able-bodied Terrans to sell to the slavers. Sila had once witnessed caged beings on their way to auction on Keeyor 9. She could still remember her shock and horror. The First Commander had curled his lips at the sight to draw an appalled Sila away. Though slavery and abetting it was a crime under the Alliance, Keeyori laws did not bar any trade in slaves. Their traders frequently bought slaves for their businesses and auctions flourished on their Trade Spheres. These Keeyori, Sila guessed, had probably been drawn to her world by the exaggerated numbers she had given to the Transport crew member of the able-bodied natives ready to defend her planet against raiders. The Matura was here to probe their defenses, capabilities and the numbers of young people they could capture to sell.
The Elder’s face had worn a defeated look as she had slowly and despairingly explained why their unexpected guests had traveled to Terra Agri 5. After some rumination, he’d announced that there was only one course of action to take. The Council would have to be warned about the motives of the Keeyori traders. But if Elder Arturo was to convince them of what Sila had learnt, he would have to reveal to the Council how she had discerned the traders’ ambitions. Sila had understood at once what the consequences of such an action would be. Once the Council of Elders was made aware of her ability, she would never be accepted on Terra Agri 5 again. No one would trust her word that she would and had always respected the privacy of others. If by some stroke of fortune, they did manage to get rid of the Keeyori, her life as she knew it on Terra Agri 5 would be over. She would never be welcome on her world again.
Amidst the fear and despair, Sila had felt a pang for the life she would be giving up — her not-very-exciting life. It might be boring, but it was the only life she had ever known. But Sila trusted Elder Arturo’s judgement
and had worked hard to determinedly thrust her ambiguous feelings aside and throw herself into the desperate endeavor to save her people from a horrible fate. She had accompanied Elder Arturo to the Council to talk about her mental abilities and support him in trying to convince the other Elders of the Keeyori’s motives. Convincing them of the traders’ intentions had been the easiest endeavor by far. The Elders, no fools, had begun to suspect that something was amiss after their meeting with the Keeyori. They were aghast at the fate about to befall their people. With no defenses against the traders, neither planetary weapons nor ground soldiers, they were ill-armed to repel them. However, their reaction to the revelation about Sila’s abilities had been more complicated and nuanced. On the one hand, her gift had helped them decipher the Keeyori’s objectives. On the other hand, there had been a palpable sense of betrayal that she had lived amongst them for so long while hiding this secret. Sila had expected no less and yet, had been inexplicably hurt at the invisible wall that had sprung up between the Elders and her. At Elder Arturo’s discreet signal, she had exited the Hall, trusting in him to convince the Council of the plan they had come up with.
It had now been two days since that fateful meeting with the Council. Elder Arturo and Sila, in the guise of his daughter, were honored guests being accorded a tour of the Matura. The Elder had gently hinted to the Captain that offering a tour of their ship as a gesture of goodwill would go a long way in convincing the remaining detractors on the Council that the Keeyori would make good trading partners.
“This is the Matura’s Bridge — the center of the ship.” The Keeyori Captain gestured at a dingy and dirty little room. The traders were confident that a tour of the ship would awe the representatives of a rural planet who had never ventured further than the nearest Trade Exchange.
Sila worked hard to hide her disgust at the state of the ship; reminding herself that the fate of her people rode on her ability to play her part. She shot a pregnant glance at the Elder who wasted no time in monopolizing the Captain’s attention by asking questions about the various controls on the Bridge. With the Captain successfully distracted, Sila located the nearest tech panel to skim her hand under it. Her palm pressed the First Commander’s gift into the panel’s underside, as she prayed fervently that the tiny device would avoid detection long enough to successfully transmit her message. While Elder Arturo and the Captain droned on about various ship functions, Sila sent up more prayers to the Goddess. Now all she could do was wait and hope. Her mind drifted to the day the First Commander had given her the device.
In full armor, with the red scales rippling, he had escorted her to a shuttle where his Captain awaited them. The Captain had murmured a formal apology to her for the Ur’quay’s inadvertent detention of her before wishing Sila safe passage home. Then, a silent First Commander had flown them in the small shuttle to the Keeyori station while the Henia kept a safe distance to avoid detection by the Trade Sphere’s sensors. Sila had stolen sidelong glances at the more-than-usual impassive Ur’quay as he expertly guided their craft into the docking port allotted to them by the station. Once docked, he’d pulled on a long dark robe with a hood that had covered his hair, most of his face and his body up to mid-calf, with just his boots and a small part of his lower face visible.
“Come, let us find you a suitable Passenger Transport” he’d announced with a tight expression. “Stay close to me. These Keeyori stations are not safe.”
Wondering at his unusual grimness, Sila had followed him. The Trade Sphere had both fascinated and repelled her. From space, it looked like a gigantic spinning top with docking ports sticking out at awkward angles all around it. On the inside, it was divided into fifteen levels, each shaped like a ring to loop around the station. They’d walked through a long, never-ending, circular thoroughfare with shops and restaurants set towards the outer edge of the ring. At the center, each ring provided a view of the lowest level of the Trade Sphere — a sort of sporting arena. She’d wondered what sport they played on a space station and why the arena was located so prominently at the heart of it. Lit by harsh artificial lights, the station had seemed to assault all her senses simultaneously. She had noted what looked like food synthesizer stations, a few restaurants advertising real food, game pavilions where knots of people yelled and threw currency wildly, music halls where scantily clad females and males gyrated on stage, shops with clothing, artifacts and goods from all corners of the galaxy, as well as those selling what looked to her like addictives. Various species from worlds across the galaxy patronized the station — some that looked like her and others very different, those that walked and breathed the air naturally and some encompassed in bubbles with their own mix of air, skin colors of all hues and bodies of all shapes with numerous different languages mingling together in an ear-splitting cacophony. Her massive companion had cleared her path through the crowded thoroughfares, his enveloping robe eliciting a few curious stares. When a shapeless glistening creature with four arms had displayed an unhealthy interest in Sila, the First Commander had given it an intimidating stare before hooking her arm on to his much larger one for the rest of their time on the station.
Their first stop on the station had been to a room where they had both been embedded with tiny chips before they were allowed to step foot on the Trade Sphere. The information in the implanted identity chip was deemed necessary for the station’s auto-sensors. No one without an ID chip was admitted onto a Trade Sphere. Their destination on the station had been an area with information about the schedules of various Transports registered to ply Keeyor 9. She’d watched the First Commander expertly use his communicator to translate the information and set up appointments with a few that ferried passengers. When her attention had wandered, Sila had observed two cages with scrawny, frightened-looking beings locked within, one ring below her. Big, beefy uniformed males guarded the cages, looking like they meant business, though there was little danger of the captives escaping. They had looked starved, cowed and resigned to their fate. Sila had leant forward from her position to get a better look, wondering if they were dangerous prisoners being transported for their crimes, when the First Commander had gently pulled her away. He’d escorted her away from the edge of the walkway back towards their shuttle.
“They are to be auctioned by slavers” he’d said briefly in response to her silent query.
At the shock on her face, he’d explained further.
“I have been told that the Keeyori treat slave auctions like regular trade. This is one of the reasons many legitimate businesses stay away from Trade Spheres. It is not safe for you here. I will arrange passage for you while you relax in the shuttle.”
At the shuttle, he had drawn Sila’s attention to the food ration he’d thoughtfully brought on board for her. Left behind with a warning to not allow anyone in while he was away, Sila had wandered around listlessly, unaccountably depressed by the thought of leaving the Ur’quay starship.
The first thing she’d noted on his return was his hair. Shorn to his nape, the thick rust-colored pelt was slicked back from his forehead.
“You chopped off your beautiful hair” she’d exclaimed without considering her words.
At her artless remark, he had flashed her a singularly attractive smile with the canines showing. The kind of smile he’d gone out of his way to avoid in their interactions, Sila had suddenly realized.
“It is for a good cause and will grow back” had been his simple response.
Taking off his all-encompassing robe, he had gazed down at her intently to show her a tiny, rectangular device with two small controls.
“This is a communication abettor. The red control will let you record a brief message and the black control will send out the recorded message by piggy-backing on any existing long-range communication mechanism. This device has been calibrated to transmit all messages to my personal communicator. All you need to do is plant it somewhere close to a space communicator. It is cutting-edge Ur’quay technology and can exploit al
most all communication mechanisms in Sector Araloka.”
Hooking the device into a thin chain, he had held it out to her in his palm, the gesture reminiscent of his offering her the translator during their first meeting.
“Wear it around your neck. If you are ever in over your head or need any assistance, use it.”
Sila, a tad taken aback, had merely stared at him.
The gold eyes with their exotic pupils had wandered her face. Then, carefully and slowly, he’d skimmed the back of two fingers lightly against her cheek in a fleeting caress.
“And if you never require my assistance again, little Terran, just wear it and think of me sometimes” he’d said with a wry twist of his lips.
With a deep breath, Sila had lifted the heavy mass of hair off her neck to present it to him, silently inviting him to put it on her. Fumbling a little, he had tied the chain around her neck.
Sila had turned to him, a palm clutching the tiny abettor on the chain around her neck, to blink back tears. “I will miss you, First Commander.”
Turning away from her, he had whispered so low that she’d almost missed it. “And I, you.”
After, he had been all business, escorting her to the Transport he’d booked for her, to leave her in the care of its Captain, an older male with kind eyes who had immediately made Sila feel comfortable. The First Commander had given her a formal nod and a single searing glance from glittering gold eyes before walking away without a backward look. Sila had held in her tears, allowing herself to be taken on a brief tour of the facilities before being escorted to her private cabin. The tears had come that night in the privacy of her room after she had discovered what good cause had propelled the First Commander to sacrifice his hair. She’d been told that the hair of a warrior fetched top price on Trade Spheres — a symbol of masculinity on many worlds since the usual way to acquire some was to defeat one and take his hair as a souvenir. The First Commander had sacrificed his hair to pay for Sila’s passage home.
