“Please… you must remember. It hasn’t been that long. We were slaves together. You said you loved me!”
Sal’s voice was raising towards a plea now. Markus just shook his head.
“I have never been a slave. I’ve been a trader all my life. My name is Sovon.”
His voice was gentle, understanding, but also distant.
“No, that can’t be. Please!”
“I truly am sorry, but I am not the person you think I am. The universe is a big place. There are many people you will come across who look like someone you know. Whoever this Markus was he was clearly very important to you. I am sorry for the hurt my appearance has caused you.”
“Really? You aren’t him?”
Sovon shook his head. “Really. Now please excuse me, I am already late for an important meeting. Taking a shortcut through the market seemed like a good idea at the time but it’s actually taking far longer than the more roundabout way.”
With that Markus… no, Sovon… turned away and was gone. Sal stood with tears streaming down her face, feeling like someone had ripped out her heart.
The resemblance had been uncanny, or so she thought. Was it just that she had been thinking of Markus so much recently, that she had seen someone quite similar and projected what she wanted to see upon him?
She turned to explain to Elizabeth what had happened, and her stomach hit the ground. Elizabeth was nowhere to be seen!
* * *
“Oh shit!” Elizabeth cursed. “Sal, where the hell are you?”
She wracked her brains but couldn’t be sure when she had last checked that Sal was following close behind. It had seemed unnecessary. Every time she turned Sal had been there, right on her heels. Truth be told, the beers they’d drunk had affected Elizabeth more than she let on to Sal. She could function without any problems, but they had boosted her confidence levels.
Now she was stuck in the middle of the market with no idea how to find Sal. She’d been making random turns, letting the crowd sweep her along, and had absolutely no idea which direction she had come from.
“Damn it. Gonna have to be the hard way, then,” she muttered.
The only way she could think of was to start walking the market, talking to the stall holders, asking them if they’d seen a scared looking young woman who matched Sal’s description.
For a moment she considered finding an access terminal and contacting Jess and Ali, asking them to join the search. She immediately dismissed the idea. That would be a recipe for getting two or three lost rather than just one.
With a sigh she walked towards the nearest stall, preparing a set of statements and questions she was sure to be asking hundreds of times that afternoon.
* * *
Sal stood frozen in place, completely overwhelmed by the situation. She had no idea where to go or what to do. Her head still felt fuzzy from the beers and the pain of thinking she’d found Markus then having her hopes dashed was still tearing into her.
“There you are! I was getting worried. Come on.”
A hand grabbed her by the upper arm and started her moving. It belonged to a man she had never seen before. He looked to be in his forties, though his body was strong and he moved lightly on his feet. Sal had taken several steps with him before she thought to stop and ask what was going on.
“I don’t know…”
The man pulled her forward, making her stumble.
“Don’t stop,” he hissed quietly. “Don’t struggle.”
Now Sal was scared. The grip on her arm was like an iron band. She started to look around for help.
“What do you want?” she managed to say. “My friend will be here any moment. If you hurt me in any way she will tear you apart.”
“What? No. I’m trying to help you. You need to trust me, for a couple of minutes at least. Standing there lost and crying you were a blatant target. Several men were closing in on you. At least two of them are still following, and probably several more. We need to get to a better patrolled section of the market.”
Sal glanced over her shoulder. She saw three men pushing their way through the crowds, eyes fixed on her.
“Three,” she said. “Three men at least.”
“Shit. We aren’t going to make it, then. There will probably be a couple of others too. Do you trust me?”
“What? No! How do I know you’re not with them?”
“Fine. In about a minute you’re going to have to make a choice… risk trusting me for a few minutes, or take your chances with those who are following.”
“But I’ve got no money, nothing for them to steal!”
“Of course you have. There’s you. They’ll take you and ship you off as a slave.”
Sal’s heart sank at that thought. But could she really trust this man?
Suddenly he led her to the left, cutting between two stalls, then around another and past two more. He pulled her between another two stalls. There was barely enough space between them to squeeze into. Halfway through he dropped down, dragging Sal with him, and wormed his way under one of the stalls.
Sal stopped for a moment, weighing her options, then followed. She was certain those following had something unpleasant planned for her, whereas with her possible saviour that was only a strong probability. She chose the lesser of two evils.
“Who…” she started to say.
The man cut her off with a gesture, shaking his head and putting his finger to his lips. Sal looked around. They were squeezed in between crates, in a narrow gap which left her and the man pressed close together. They weren’t touching, but nor was there much space.
“…lost them… dammit! Girl would have been worth…”
The snatch of conversation faded again as whoever was speaking passed the stall. Sal went to speak again, but her companion shook his head. He kept her there for what felt like several minutes before finally relenting. Somehow Sal felt more safe as time went on. They were so close to other people she could attract attention if he tried anything.
“It should be safe now,” he said finally. “After you.”
Sal awkwardly crawled backwards, then climbed to her feet between the two stalls. She backed away slightly as the man followed, looking all around her in case anyone was still searching.
“Right,” the man said. “Let’s find somewhere to grab a coffee.”
“I’m not going with you. I don’t even know who you are!”
“I’m the one who just saved you from what would have been a very unpleasant fate. My name is Roberto. You look pretty shaken up right now. Normally I’d suggest something strong, maybe a whisky, but from your breath you’ve already drunk a fair bit so coffee sounds better. Are you coming? Or are you going to stand around here looking lost and attracting more unwanted attention?”
The thought of more people trying to catch her, to return her to being a slave, was enough to overcome her wariness of Roberto. She nodded slightly.
“All right, but I still don’t trust you.”
“Good! I’d be worried if you did. Come on, I think there are some places along this way. Do you mind holding onto my arm? It’s much too easy to get separated in these crowds, and I don’t want to keep turning to check on you. That would draw more attention to us than we need.”
She took hold of his upper arm without answering. She already knew how easy it was to get lost within the market.
Roberto walked in silence for several minutes, seeming to favour one direction, though the haphazard nature of the stalls often forced them to take detours. Finally they broke through into a more spacious area. It wasn’t the edge of the market, Sal could still see stalls surrounding it, but it was a large area with fixed buildings. Sal wasn’t surprised to see that most were bars, though there were a few restaurants, too.
Chapter 16
Roberto led her towards a restaurant and they soon had a secluded seat at a table near the back. The waitress took their order for two coffees and left.
“It’s quiet,” Sal sa
id.
“Yeah. It’s after lunch and before dinner. This place will probably be packed in a couple of hours,” he said.
“You don’t know? I thought you were looking for this place.”
“No, just somewhere like it. There are quite a few fixed areas for restaurants and bars within the market. If you know how to read them the layout of the stalls gives clues as to where such places are. There’s always a lot more food stalls near them, for example, as they group together to attract more customers.”
Sal sat in silence for a few seconds, then asked the question which was on her mind.
“Why did you help me?”
“Why? Because you needed help and I was in a position to do so. I could tell you wouldn’t last long unless I stepped in.”
“Just kindness, then? I find that hard to believe. Most people are out to get something.”
“All right. I would have helped anyway, but I was so close by because I was intrigued by your exchange with the trader, the man you called Markus.”
Sal felt a cold chill inside. “Why?”
“My employer is looking to do a significant amount of business with Sovon. Every background check has come up clean. He’s been trading since he was old enough to accompany his father. He has extensive contacts who give him glowing reports. There’s nothing in his history to suggest we can’t trust him.
“Still, with so much at stake my employer wants to be sure. I’ve been following him, checking that his behaviour fits. Up until the moment you approached him there had been nothing at all. Your discussion piqued my interest, though. He clearly didn’t recognise you, or didn’t show any signs that he did, but I wanted to find out more.”
“So you saved me because I was useful?”
“No!” The denial was almost a shout. “I would have done that anyway. I promise you!”
Sal was surprised to find she believed him. She sat back in her chair, considering what he had said. The waitress came over and placed two large, steaming cups of coffee on the table. Once she had left Sal looked at Roberto carefully.
“All right, what do you want to know?”
He smiled. “Just tell me your story, where you were when you met this Markus, and the details of it. One thing I want to make sure is that he wasn’t slumming it – no offence intended, I hate the term myself. Sometimes those who own slaves like to spend time amongst them, pretending to be one of them. The reasons vary but more often than not it’s related to sex. Do you know who owned you at the time?”
“The Empire. I was owned by the Empire from the moment I was born till the moment I…” she stumbled to a halt, not wanting to mention the Wanderer. “Till I got free.”
“Ah. That means it’s certain Sovon isn’t your Markus. There’s no way he would ever have had access to you. Well, it was worth checking out. Why not tell me your story anyway?”
“Why?”
“Because talking often helps. I saw how upset you were.”
Sal sat for a few moments, scared to broach the painful subject again, especially with a stranger. Then a combination of the alcohol she had drunk, the shock of thinking she had found Markus and the narrow escape from harm loosened her tongue.
She found herself telling Roberto everything about her relationship with Markus, from the first moments when there seemed to be a spark between them to the awful memories of his being dragged from the cell. Roberto sat in silence most of the time, listening carefully and asking the occasional question.
* * *
Elizabeth walked away from yet another stall holder who hadn’t seen, or noticed at least, anyone matching Sal’s description. It was hopeless. The market was huge, and the chances of her finding Sal were tiny.
She scratched absent-mindedly at an itch on her arm, then stopped and stared at what she had been doing. A smile spread across her face and she hurried to the nearest stall to ask a different question. Where was the nearest access terminal?
* * *
Sal finished her story and sat quietly. Talking about it had eased some of the pain that had lodged in her chest since finding the man who she thought was Markus. It didn’t remove it all by any means, but she felt a little better.
“That’s rough,” Roberto said in a soft voice. “People are too quick to ignore slaves, to not think of them as human. Stories like yours remind us of the truth. If you have no objections I will tell your story to those I think will listen.”
“No, of course not. It’s not like I’m ever likely to meet anyone you tell anyway, is it?”
He smiled at that. “No. Good point.”
Sal scratched at the back of her neck again. She’d developed an itch while telling her story, and it kept returning in the same place.
“So, are you going to tell me all about yourself now?” she asked.
Roberto shook his head. “I could say there is nothing interesting to know, but I think you are smart enough to know that would be a lie. However, there is nothing I can tell you. I can talk about this station though, if you like. Then, once we have finished our drinks, I can find out where your ship is docked and walk you back to it.”
“How do you know I’m from a ship?” Sal asked, startled.
Roberto laughed. “How could you not be? You know nothing of the station, of the market or of the people you need to be wary of. You’re from a ship. I can tell that easily.”
Sal couldn’t avoid returning his smile, though hers was a little sheepish.
“Yeah, all right. You’ve got me there. So what can you tell me about the station?”
Roberto proceeded to tell her several stories, at least one of which she was sure must be made up. He was a good story teller, though, and she enjoyed listening to him.
He slowed to a halt partway through yet another story, looking up at someone who had approached their table.
“There you are!” Elizabeth said. “Bloody hell, Sal, you gave me one hell of a fright.”
“Not as much as I gave myself,” Sal replied. “If Roberto here hadn’t come to my rescue then… well… things would have gone badly.”
Elizabeth studied Roberto for a few seconds before smiling and offering her hand.
“Glad to see there are still some decent people left. I’m Elizabeth.”
Roberto shook her hand.
“Would you like to join us?” he asked.
“Sorry, no. We need to get back to our ship. Thank you again for looking after Sal for me. This place can be overwhelming at the best of times.”
“It was my pleasure,” he replied with a smile. He turned to Sal. “Sal, please take care. Even the safest areas can be dangerous, and next time I won’t be around to rescue you.”
“Thank you.” Sal felt reluctant to leave Roberto. She stood then leaned over, kissing him on the cheek.
“Well, maybe I should follow you and find another chance to earn a kiss,” he joked.
Sal and Elizabeth said their goodbyes again and walked towards the entrance.
“I think you’ve got yourself an admirer there,” Elizabeth said.
Sal looked over her shoulder to see Roberto staring at her intently. He raised his hand in a lazy salute and she smiled back.
“Maybe. Let’s just get back to the Wanderer, though. I won’t feel safe till we do.”
* * *
Dash watched as Sal left the restaurant. He used his first name so rarely now that Roberto sounded strange to him. Struggling to cope with Dozer’s death he had decided to keep himself busy by checking on a potential business partner. Dozer would have disapproved of course, lecturing him on avoiding danger, but Dozer was gone.
Dash had been tracking Sovon for several days without finding anything unusual. Until Sal turned up. Something there didn’t add up. He’d told Sal the truth. He would have tried to save her even without his interest in Sovon. Her tale had been interesting, but not particularly unique. What was interesting was her friend tracking her down. Dash had been watching everyone who entered or left the restaurant. Eliz
abeth had walked in and headed straight for their table, well before she could have spotted Sal. Somehow she had known just where Sal was sitting.
Sal’s encounter with Sovon must be a case of mistaken identity. Dash had seen Sovon’s records, there was no way at all he could be the Markus she sought. Sovon's history for the past seven years was ironclad. Every movement, every trip, was meticulously logged. What wasn’t logged was the nature of some of his cargo, but that was his speciality. Smuggling.
So nothing to worry about. Except… if Sovon couldn’t possibly be Markus, then why had he reacted to that name when Sal first called him? And why had his face registered shock at seeing her for a few brief moments before he locked down his reactions? Almost no one would have noticed, but Dash had the experience and was watching Sovon closely. Impossible as it seemed, it appeared Sovon was actually Markus.
Dash could just walk away now, cut all ties to Sovon, but that would leave too many unanswered questions. He needed to find out what was going on. And part of doing that meant learning more about Sal, her crew and her ship.
Dash stood and slipped on dark glasses, then left the restaurant. Visible only to him was the trace from the tracker he had fitted to Sal, a tracer which allowed him to follow them at a distance that kept him well out of sight. He would follow them back to their ship and then… well, he wasn’t sure. It depended on what he found out.
Chapter 17
Elizabeth hurried Sal along, keeping a tight hold on her arm this time. The market crowds were as thick as ever and she didn’t want to risk losing Sal again. The dense mass of people also prevented them from swapping more than the occasional word.
Finally they pulled free of the market and into a corridor headed towards the docks. With far fewer people around, Elizabeth released Sal’s arm and relaxed a little.
“Thanks for coming to find me,” Sal said. “Sorry for wandering off.”
Wanderer's Odyssey - Books 1 to 3: The Epic Space Opera Series Begins Page 34
