by C. Gockel
Alejandro frowned slightly, no doubt noticing that she had not exactly given a promise to get the bag back, but what could she do? She wasn’t in a position of power here. She wasn’t even sure why he thought she would be more likely to come up with a plan and lead an escape than he. He had to be twenty years older than she was, more experienced in life. But, she reasoned, perhaps not more experienced with getting out of jams.
“As long as we’re making promises,” Beck said, “can we promise to get my combat armor on the way out too? That’s the most valuable thing I’ve ever had in my life, and until my sauce line gets going, I reckon I’m going to have to fight for my tindarks. Can’t fight without a good suit.”
Alisa patted his shoulder. “Maybe they’ll be stored in the same place.”
“Just so long as some slimy pirate hasn’t claimed it for his own. I don’t like another man’s sweat in my suit.”
“I have nothing I need in my trunk,” Yumi said, “but if we can get it, I would also be pleased. After all, half of my fare is inside of it.”
“Can I say,” Alisa said, looking around at her little group, pleased that nobody was curled in a ball on the floor and moaning that the end was near, “that I’m glad that everyone is so certain that we are going to get out.”
“Not everyone,” Mica grumbled. “I expect we’ll be raped and tortured and made to watch, and that half of us will get killed before we get thrown into this slavery ring. And then the other half will wish they had been killed too.”
“Sounds like a good reason to expedite our escape then.” Alisa pushed herself to her feet.
Alejandro stood up next to her.
“About Leonidas,” she said, “should I work him into my plans or not?”
“I probably know less about him than you wish, but he’s known to be an honorable man.”
Alisa lifted her brows. She had already guessed that. The problem was that she didn’t know if Leonidas considered her honorable and worthy of helping out.
“His name is Colonel Hieronymus Adler,” Alejandro said. “I would guess Leonidas is a call sign, though he could have made it up on the spot. He was the commander of the Cyborg Corps for the first couple of years of the war. I’m not sure what he did after that—you have to understand that I wasn’t a military doctor, and I rarely interacted with soldiers—but I believe he may have done some special assignments for the emperor.”
“Oh.” Alisa didn’t know what else to say. If Leonidas had been the emperor’s special man, that meant he was even more of an enemy to her and the Alliance than she had realized. She definitely shouldn’t factor him into her plans or expect him to risk himself for people that he, too, would consider enemies. “Do you know what his mission is? Why he was so determined to go out to that research station? And if he was one of the emperor’s favorites, why was he stranded on Dustor?”
“He hasn’t confided in me. I don’t think he recognized me when we met or considered me someone who might be a confidant.”
Might be a confidant? Was Alejandro saying that he would help Leonidas if he could? Or just that they were both from the empire and could have stuck together?
“Do you think his mission is personal or that someone sent him out here? Is it like Malik said, that the cyborgs were drawn to the research station because they wanted upgraded parts?”
Alejandro hesitated. “After the emperor was killed, I don’t think there was anyone left back home who could have sent him on a special assignment.”
Alisa held back a frown, though she noted that hesitation. Did that mean he was lying?
“So, you think his mission is personal?” she asked.
“I have no way of knowing.”
“All right.” Alisa walked the three steps to the bars, not sure she had gotten any useful information in exchange for her promise. Just Leonidas’s name and confirmation that he was someone she should go on hating, or at least thinking of as an enemy. If he had truly been that high up in the fleet chain of command and that close to the emperor, having him roaming around free out here was a dangerous thing for the Alliance.
She nodded toward one of the men across the way who looked over at her movement. She tapped a bar to make sure it wasn’t charged with electricity, then draped her arms around them. “Any chance you fellows would like to chat?”
“Not unless one of you girls wants to come over and keep us company,” one of the scruffier men said. He was missing an eye. The wound looked recent. “Those bastards didn’t see fit to supply our cell with any women.”
Alisa had seen the women in another cell, and they hadn’t looked like they wanted to be molested by fellow prisoners. They had looked like they had already been molested enough. She shuddered, thinking of Mica’s pessimistic predictions. She needed information, so she forced herself to continue the chat, to be friendly.
“Any preferences as to which one?” she asked.
“You’ll do. They haven’t even uglied you up yet. Come on over.”
Alisa ticked the bar. “It seems the pirates don’t want us commingling.” She pressed the side of her face into the gap between the bars, peering as far up and down the hall as she could see. She spotted someone’s sleeve next to the exit. They had at least one guard.
“I don’t care what those mother-forsaken thugs want,” one of the other men grumbled. “I just want to get out of here.”
“How long have you been in that cell?”
“Months. Sparky and Phan are the only ones who get to go for walks now and then.” The speaker waved toward two men lying on one side of the cell.
“Why are they special?”
“Engineer and mechanic. The pirates aren’t a real educated lot. They’ve got no use for those of us who were just miners, but if something goes wrong with the ship, they come and collect someone who knows how to fix it.”
Alisa moved along the bars so she stood in front of the specialists. Aware of the guard and the cameras, she made a psst sound and waved, hoping one would come closer. One man did not acknowledge her at all. The other one glowered.
“You want them to move, you’ll have to show Sparky some tits,” the man she had been speaking with said, giving her a lurid wink.
“Actually,” someone else said, “I’ve heard Sparky would rather see the tits of her muscleman back there.”
Beck’s eyebrows flew up, and he touched his chest in a self-conscious gesture.
“I’ll arrange that if we all get out of here,” Alisa said.
“Really, Captain. That wasn’t in the job description.”
“I’m positive I asked for open-mindedness and versatility down in the fine print of my recruiting flyer.”
“Which of those things was supposed to imply I’d disrobe for other men?” Beck asked.
“The first, I think.” Alisa nodded to the glowering engineer. “Sparky, how often do they come get you?”
“Every few days. This ship is fifty years old. Things go wrong often, especially since they’re not caring for her like they should.” He sighed and ran the palm of his hand along the wall of his cell in a sad caress.
“And you fix the problems for them?”
“Don’t have much choice.”
“Have you ever thought of—” Alisa lowered her voice, “—creating a problem? Sabotaging something and using the diversion to escape?” She ticked the bars again. Unfortunately, they wouldn’t go away if the power went out. It was too bad the cells did not use typical forcefields.
“The last engineer had thoughts like that,” Sparky said. “They scalped him, then dumped his body into a vat of molten ore.”
“Did the last engineer have a pilot with a freighter in the bay, ready to give you a ride out?”
“Kiss that ship goodbye, girl. They’ve probably already scrapped it.”
Alisa forced herself not to shudder or be daunted by that idea. “So, you wouldn’t be willing to sabotage something the next time you’re out? Even if Beck took off his shirt and danced for you?�
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“Captain,” Beck said in a pained voice.
Sparky shook his head.
One of the other miners said, “You’re not going to escape. You think everyone who gets shoved in here doesn’t think about it? Forget it. We’ve tried everything. Chances got even slimmer after the cyborg took over. The guards pay more attention, and you better believe they’re recording you right now. If you make trouble, they’ll kill you. Best to go along with things and hope for a good owner or a chance to escape once you’re sold on the auction block.”
The guard walked into view, as if to emphasize the miner’s point. He banged the muzzle of his blazer rifle against the bars in front of Alisa.
“Too much socializing down here.”
The miners turned away from him, their shoulders hunched. A few of them had holes in their shirts, revealing whip scars on their backs.
“You’re welcome to join in if you like,” Alisa told the guard. She doubted she could establish a rapport with him, but maybe she could get a few drops of information.
“With what?” the man asked. “Looking at your brute’s tits?”
“I’m amazed at how much interest there is in that.”
“Me too,” Beck muttered.
“Options are limited here.” The guard smirked.
“Say, Sparky, what kind of engine runs a ship this big?” Alisa asked.
Sparky looked at the guard, then gave her an incredulous look, as if he couldn’t believe she wanted to continue chatting with the man right there.
“A Molbydam 850,” Sparky muttered.
“Mica,” Alisa said, “that’s a smallish engine for a ship this big, isn’t it?”
Mica gave her a flat why-are-you-including-me-in-your-troublemaking look, but answered. “It’s the factory original for a Tolican Ore Driver. Nobody designed these ships to go fast. They just have to get their load from place to place.”
“This ship is fast enough,” Sparky said, sitting up. “Me and Hemm made plenty of modifications over the years, back when the company paid us well and didn’t make us sleep in cells with a bunch of sweaty men.”
“What kinds of modifications?” Mica stood up and joined Alisa at the bars. “I’ve seen a few ships blow up because some uneducated mechanics thought they were being clever.”
The guard seemed bored with the discussion and walked farther down the corridor, checking on the other cells.
“Keep talking to him,” Alisa whispered. “Make it sound like you know more about engines and this ship.”
“I do know more,” Mica said. “I grew up on a mining moon. I’ve seen every ship and configuration in the business.”
“Then it should be easy.”
“What should be?”
“Proving you’re the one the guards should select the next time they need something fixed.”
Mica’s eyes narrowed.
The guard ambled back toward them. Mica hesitated, but then launched into a lecture for the engineer, calling him a self-taught muck-for-brains who would likely get this ship blown up. Alisa gave her a surreptitious bright sun gesture, hand to chest, fingers splayed.
A door clanged open. Alisa hoped that meant a senior-ranking guard was coming, someone who might pass along word of Mica’s expertise if he heard about it. Instead, a familiar figure strolled into view. Malik.
The so-called Sublime Commander had removed his red armor and wore a sleeveless shirt that revealed thick arms and chiseled muscle, exactly what Alisa expected from a cyborg. He still wore the mottled black and gray uniform trousers of an imperial soldier, along with a flat ID chip on a neck chain. A rifle was slung on a strap across his back, and a long knife hung from a sheath on his belt.
Seeing him up close made Alisa want to step back as adrenaline surged through her veins. She couldn’t help it. After the war, she feared someone like this far more than she ever would one of the grubby pirates. It didn’t matter that both could kill her in exactly the same way.
A second man walked beside Malik. Alisa wished it had been Leonidas. Even if she didn’t think he would be a savior, she had a notion of what to expect from him by now. But it was one of the pirates from the cargo hold. He had also changed out of his combat armor, but she recognized the voice when he exchanged a few words with the guard. It was the one who had wanted to have some fun with her. Great.
She hoped that Malik and his buddy had come down to hand out lunch and had nothing more inimical in mind. Unfortunately, neither one was holding a box of ration bars.
“You.” Malik pointed at Alisa, barely glancing at the others in the cell.
“Me?”
Alisa made herself step back up to the bars, not wanting him to see her fear and also wanting a glimpse down the corridor. Had Leonidas come on this visit? Did he know about this visit? Where was he, anyway? When the two cyborgs had met, she hadn’t gotten the impression that Malik would do anything to make him disappear, but what did she know? Maybe what he had offered Leonidas had been a lie, and he had shot his old commander in the back as soon as he had a chance.
“Got a few questions for you,” Malik said, giving her that discomfiting half smile.
“I expect I know a lot less than you think.” Alisa couldn’t imagine what he thought she knew. Unless he had a question about the Star Nomad—and why would they?—she wouldn’t be the person to ask.
“We’ll find out,” his subordinate said, leering at Alisa’s breasts.
Malik thumped him in the chest. On the surface, it looked like a friendly thump, almost something done between buddies, but the force of it made the pirate stumble back and bump his shoulder blades on the bars across the way. Too bad none of the miners were poised to take advantage. One might have jumped forward, wrapped an arm around his throat, and broken his neck. Not that they would win an uprising with Malik there, but everyone here seemed so complacent, so accepting of their fate. Alisa wished they would fight, if only with words and spirit.
“Not until later for that, Bruiser,” Malik told his subordinate.
Bruiser. What a name.
“Sooner might help get her talking,” Bruiser said, leering again. “I can be forceful.”
The guard smirked. Malik just looked at him like he was an imbecile.
“Open it,” Malik told another guard that Alisa couldn’t see, someone near the door at the head of the corridor.
That meant there were three men and a cyborg out there. Unfortunately, Alisa did not see how her people could come out on top, even if they got a chance to charge out. If Malik hadn’t been there, maybe.
A clank sounded in the ceiling, and the grid of bars disappeared into holes up there. Malik reached for Alisa. Beck pulled her back and tried to step in the way. The guard stepped forward, pointing his rifle at him. Beck lifted his hands, as if to show he was only interested in putting himself between Alisa and Malik, then kicked out before that muzzle fully pointed at him. The rifle flew upward, and Beck flung himself at the man.
Malik lunged forward, moving too quickly to track. He caught Beck by the throat, halting his charge before it got far.
“Don’t,” Alisa yelled, reaching for Malik’s arm, knowing he could snap Beck’s neck easily. “Please.”
Malik paused and looked at her, his fingers wrapped around Beck’s neck but not squeezing all the way. Beck bared his teeth and grabbed his assailant’s forearm with both hands. The cyborg barely seemed to notice.
“He is your lover?” Malik asked Alisa.
“My security officer. I pay him to protect me from thugs. Whatever he does is my fault, so you should blame me, not him. Not his neck.”
Malik snorted. “Whatever you pay him, it’s too much.”
Beck grabbed his forearm and tried to kick him in the balls, but the cyborg lifted one thickly muscled thigh, blocking the attack easily. Alisa made a cutting motion, hoping Beck would pay attention. The odds were too ridiculously against them as long as Malik was there. Besides, she might be able to learn something if they took he
r someplace for questioning. Assuming she could avoid Bruiser’s attention.
“Did you hire the colonel too?” Malik tilted his head, watching her as he avoided everything Beck attempted.
“No.” Alisa figured she shouldn’t imply any relationship between her and Leonidas. She wasn’t sure if there was one, but just in case, she would not thwart whatever plans he might have. “I didn’t even want him on my ship.”
Malik snorted again. “Because he’s a cyborg.”
“Mostly because he’s imperial and I’m not. Fire and water, you understand.”
“Nobody’s imperial anymore. The war’s over.” Malik flung Beck away from him with no more effort than if he were tossing a wadded up ball of paper into a trash bin. Beck was hurled through the air, knocking Alejandro over before landing hard in the corner. His head struck the wall, and he slid down.
Alisa started toward him, worried that might have broken his neck after all, but Malik grabbed her before she could take more than a step. He yanked her into the corridor with enough force to take her from her feet. Fresh pain came from all the day’s injuries, and she clenched her teeth to keep from gasping. She tumbled against his chest, loathing that he could pull her around like a doll.
“Shut it,” Malik said.
The bars clanged back into place, separating Alisa from her people. Bruiser looked her up and down with a contented smile.
“Where are we going?” Alisa asked, focusing on the cyborg instead of the lusty creep. She feared Malik, there was no doubt about that, but at least he did not act like a sexual predator.
“Bruiser and I are going to have a chat with you.” A gleam of pleasure entered his dark eyes, and she wondered if she’d been too quick to judge his subordinate as the more vile person. “This way.”
Malik shoved her down the corridor with the gentleness of a jackhammer.
16
Alisa stood in the center of a space that looked like a cross between a break room and a gym, with a table and chairs surrounded by weight-lifting equipment that had been creatively made from chains, cables, and spare parts that looked like they had come out of the smelter. The two doors leading to the room were shut, leaving her alone with Malik, Bruiser, and a simple wooden box resting on the table. Malik had searched her again, apparently not trusting that his pirates had done a good enough job, then handcuffed her wrists in front of her. She was not sure why he had bothered since he could thwart any attacks she might have come up with, but then the thought came to her that he might intend to leave her alone with Bruiser eventually. She dreaded that, but tried to tell herself that her odds of escaping would be better then.
