by V Guy
“They’re probably on the Intruder, Dr. Jekyll,” said Malik, struggling to remove the harness. “My tracker indicated the ship entered the Raven channel three days ago, but we won’t know the missing women are there until the files are examined. Help me out of this.”
Arturo moved to assist.
“How’d you know these two were new?” asked Liola.
“I could sense it. Refuel and prepare the Rumbler for departure, putting the additional supplies in the back. We’re going to let the others have it available below.”
Violet stepped forward and gawked. “You’re Malik.”
“Do you know me?” he asked, tilting his head.
Her shining visage glowed with wonder. “You ran the Earth channel. No one does that.”
Malik shed the remainder of his battle gear and pulled it clear of the entry passage. “I did. What else do you know?”
“You ran the Evaline channel, too,” replied the awed and smiling Sofia. “You also fought off two hundred attackers at Angelis.”
Evelyn broke into a huge grin, and Liola smirked. Another woman was escorted to the habitation deck.
“A little exaggerated,” said Malik, groaning. “There weren’t that many, and intruder control systems did most of the work. Why were you at Bedele?”
The curly-haired Sofia shrugged. “I went to a club. I think my drink was spiked.”
He turned to Violet. “You?”
Anger touched her face. “I was attending a conference. They abducted me from my room.”
Malik nodded, stretching his sore limbs. “It might be a week or more, but I can return you home.”
Maria, one of the women new to Bedele Creative, was released by Evelyn and directed to his location. Malik asked her the same question.
“They took me from the institute,” she said, her forehead furrowing. “I packed my things and left.”
“Packed?”
“Yes,” she replied, nervous under his scrutiny. “We always followed instructions. Hesitation angered them.”
He paused, distressed. “What was this institute, and how many others were there?”
Maria frowned. “It was a boarding school. There must have been hundreds of women and girls. My job was to teach.”
He motioned her away, watching as she and the next woman climbed the steps together. “We’ll need two more bunks.”
“What’s wrong?” asked Evelyn, seeing his expression. She motioned the next woman forward.
Malik absently watched Arturo refuel the Rumbler. “I thought that Creative’s business model was predominately built upon abductees. I was wrong. They buy young certie girls, raise them, then use them as feed stock for their businesses.”
He scowled in annoyance. “My plan was to send these women home. Unfortunately, some of them will have nowhere to go.”
11: Chats
Day 681: Bedele, Pathfinder
“How many?” asked Evelyn, returning her attention to a woman who called herself Ileana.
Malik disconnected the cannon that had been installed on his right flank. “We’ll know for certain after extensive interviews, but I suspect over half of them. My sense of them matches my sense of this woman here.”
She frowned. “That’s a lot of homeless. They’re not all staying, are they?”
He deposited the weapon at the threshold of cargo bay two and returned to disconnect the second cannon. “That remains unknown.”
Ileana left Evelyn and faced him. She set her hands to her hips. “I’m not going back.”
All of the women were beautiful, but this woman carried a special presence that outshone them all. Her features were gentle, her brown hair was relaxed, and her poise was remarkable.
“That was never my intention.” Malik glanced wearily at the other new woman. “These two will be different stories.”
They watched him expectantly, and he looked at them with impatience. “This will be determined later. You should sleep.”
“Someone did this to me,” said Violet, crossing her arms. “And I need to know who.”
“That knowledge may be unavailable.”
“If you learn, will you do something about it?”
Malik’s irritation showed. “I have twenty-seven Creative initiates onboard, a preliminary estimate of twenty-one says they’ll need extensive medical assistance and mental reprogramming, eighteen could need career training, all of them will need distribution to homes or alternate locations, none of them can be discovered to be onboard, and everything must happen while we pretend to be grounded at Evaline. There are limited opportunities to make these excursions. Try not to be too demanding.”
Her eyes widened and she backed away. “I was just asking.”
“There’ll be plenty of time for questions,” he said, turning away. “There are people out, and I want them safely returned.”
The three women paused, unsure how to respond.
Liola directed them to the steps. “Follow me. You’ll be around for a couple of weeks, the answers to your problems will likely be complex, and you should allow him time.”
When she returned, another woman was ready for delivery. Two Asian women followed in turn, both of them fixated on Malik as they were led away.
“Twenty-seven,” said Evelyn, dropping the instruments on the table and rubbing her neck. “I’m tired now, and we haven’t even started.”
“Six of them will need minimal medical assistance,” said Malik, carrying the support frame into cargo bay two. “Then there are the last two to recover.”
“Fully matured, if your supposition is correct.”
He nodded, placing the cannons into holders and setting the gear’s headpiece on a cradle. “It’s times like these when I miss my shower.”
“We could rebuild yours,” she said, smiling. “I don’t think Serena would object.”
Liola walked into the hold with a pack full of data taps. He led her to a computer station on the starboard bulkhead and accessed a panel. To the right were small, numbered cylinders, and he inserted three of them into vertical ports. She withdrew three of the taps and handed them to him to place in a parallel column. She dumped the rest in a nearby tray.
“This is new,” said Evelyn, running her hand along the console.
“Helen said she wanted taps,” said Malik. He shook his head in amazement. “When you have taps, you have stolen data to process. I’m mirroring the contents of each one into new modules and will download the contents into this local system. When I can verify the data is clean, I will transfer it to the main system. Helen discovered a library of archived data modules and spent all day copying them. There will be much to examine.”
Evelyn watched as he inserted a new set of devices. “We don’t need a second visit. This is all the data we could ever want.”
He shrugged. “She wants to ensure management dies.”
She peered around at the spare equipment and salvage still remaining in the hold. “You don’t seem pleased about today.”
“I can’t combat the core problem,” said Malik, his voice softening. “I can keep future women from becoming the signature Bedele Creative slave, but every year a new batch of women will leave the institutes and legally enter the ranks of the sexually abused through other paths. This progression can’t be changed. Every one of those women lived a life of preparation from the age of five or younger, when they were legally purchased from the certie market. They were there because the affluent wanted the privilege of rejecting imperfect and unwanted children. I can’t fight slavery because powerful, influential, and selfish people plant and nurture its seeds.”
She cocked her head. “Maybe you can’t win the war, but you might win a battle or two. These women can be one of them.” She stretched her back and yawned. “If I’m going to manage them, I’m going to need some sleep. See you in the morning.”
He nodded as she departed, only to see another woman arrive.
Liola had waited for Evelyn’s departure and entered
with another batch of the data-capturing devices. “My family had three children. Why couldn’t everyone else?”
Malik rotated a new set of modules onto the interfaces. “In the expansion worlds, the second child incurs fees across the board, and the third child becomes a significant expense through taxes, education, and medical charges. It’s probably why your mom was rather upset—you were that third child.”
She grimaced. “I never understood. There’s plenty of room on the expansion worlds.”
He huffed in disgust. “It’s to allow immigration from the Earth. Bad policies continually get infused into places where they don’t belong.”
Two more groups of taps were routed through the device. The newly copied versions were set into place on the left panel to download the information, and she watched distractedly as data from the taps was merged.
“What happens after the cops run out of questions?” asked Liola.
Malik paused. “Marina Kay, Dibbin’s wife, will take possession. If she wishes my death, I die. If she wishes profit, I’ll be sold. Serena’s lawyers will make an offer to buy her claim for when she surfaces. Dibbin is a liability, is being kept in a support home, and she’s off somewhere else, living off a lawsuit’s rewards.”
“Then there’s no way of knowing?”
“I believe I’ll survive long enough to finish Kroes’s jobs. Hopefully by then, the woman will have found homes, and Selena will have been liberated.”
Liola narrowed her eyes. “You know something.”
Malik paused and considered her. “I’m gambling.”
“Odds?”
“Fair.”
“How can you know that?”
“Kroes wants help that only I can provide to do things she badly wants done. She won’t let Kay have me, at least not yet.”
Liola pondered the declaration. “How much does she know?”
“Everything.”
She scowled. “How?”
“There was a spy on board.”
“Helen?”
Malik nodded. “She didn’t know she was being used, but she does now. She was furious.”
“You shut it down?”
“Yes. Helen is vulnerable enough.”
Liola watched as a new set of modules were placed in the equipment, her countenance hardening. “What’s the blackmail? What’s your true motivation for rescuing those people?”
Malik smiled, thinking of his encounter. “Freeing Helen is the purpose. Kroes initially threatened to tell about everyone’s involvement in our nefarious activities. I convinced her to retract the statement.”
One of Liola’s eyebrows rose.
“I threatened to kill her on the spot,” he said, a corner of his lips rising. “I understood that her leverage could be used repeatedly and that eventually I would refuse to cooperate, placing you in danger.”
“We could kill her.”
“She’s too smart for that. A CSA officer of her rank and caliber has contingencies.”
She frowned. “But you would have.”
Malik made a smirk. “There was no chance I would let her survive that threat. Better to kill her first and let her feel the retribution in advance.”
Liola eyed him, a half-grin forming. “She’s not going to let you get away with that.”
“No, she isn’t,” he said, chuckling. “But she has until now. Grant me some time, and she could change her mind completely.”
“Kay would still be a problem.”
He accessed the terminal to evaluate the transferred information. “Kay is easy by comparison.”
She watched as he worked, particularly noting his test sequences. “My mom wanted me to complete the exam for my secondary-education diploma then make application to college. She wasn’t going to pay for it. Said I should do it myself.”
Malik smiled and shook his head in amusement. “As if you needed financial assistance. Your equivalency exam should be equally easy.”
Liola made a secret smile and moved to leave. When she reached the threshold, she turned back. “You should tell the others about the threat.”
He nodded, and she left.
The rest of the captured information was secured and tested. After downloading the sum of it into a much higher capacity unit, Malik moved to the half-sized cargo hold of three to check his equipment. This hold once consisted of two decks. Now it was reduced to one. That lower half had been consumed with extra septic, water, and recovery tanks. Every new pipe and instrument needed controls, protection, and access, and the large tanks required groups of systems for managing integrity and functionality. Like every other system in the ship, they were integrated into Pathfinder’s central nervous system and involved significant connectivity. Tonight was the equipment’s first real test; Malik surveyed the systems for issues.
Arturo met him an hour into the inspection. “The parts for the new bunks are ready. Patterns for your shower could be entered.”
“There’s enough happening,” said Malik. “But thank you.”
Arturo observed the items on his checklist. “Most of these should be remotely monitored. Is there a problem?”
“Some items that should’ve been connected to the system, weren’t. Still, most units are satisfactory.”
Arturo scanned the bulkheads. Every element of the ship’s systems was in some way represented within this modified hold. Malik’s survey would be extended.
“There’s something I must ask.”
His tone caused Malik to turn.
The man hesitated. “You’re giving the institute women new futures. What kind of exit strategy did you have in mind for us?”
“‘Us’?”
“Me and the rest of my commando brothers. Unless something unusual happens with this woman on Taipei and Evaline’s law enforcement, you’ll likely not be on Pathfinder next year.”
Malik’s eye ridges angled forward. “You five are the most skilled people of anyone here. You could do anything.”
“We might not want to be bouncers or body guards. We also have no foundational history.”
Malik scanned the hold and the effort it represented. Considering how much sweat was spent in its production, considerably more energy would be expended in the women’s rehabilitation. A large portion of that commitment was mental—the same resource necessary to create the commandos’ futures.
“Decide the details of your desired lives and what you would’ve learned as specialties. I can build you past records and provide the training.”
“It’s that easy?”
“It’s that feasible. As with everything else, time and effort will be involved.”
“What about the women without pasts?”
Malik turned to examine the equipment as a new fatigue covered him. “Undetermined.”
“And the two that got away?”
Malik frowned, his annoyance growing. “They’re on the Intruder. Get some rest. If we must board that ship, and I believe we will, I’ll need you ready.”
Arturo bowed out. Malik paused as he considered the enormous tasks ahead of him, staring at the remaining piping and connections along the bulkheads as if they were the first hurdle. Two fresh minds approached, and he glanced in surprise. The red, black, and yellow-striped jumper, called Pepper; and the white jumper with green legs, called Mint, appeared at the bulkhead. Their presence reminded him of better times, and a smile impulsively came to his maw. A trip to the galley provided them nourishment. He watched them contentedly embrace their meals and disappear through the bulkheads.
For a moment, his troubles faded, and his world was bathed in a blessed peace.
He clung to the moment. Thank you.
12: Sisters
Day 682: Bedele, Pathfinder
Morning came early. The initiates were well conditioned for rising, were awake, and moving early. Evelyn and Liola met them leaving their quarters as they arrived for wake-up calls and immediately began their orientations, instructing them concerning the selection and op
tions of toiletries, procedures for requesting and acquiring food in the galley, scheduling and use of the workout area, and use of the simulator. The six newest initiates were the first to be evaluated in the infirmary. After determinations indicated the status of their implants, their fledgling parasitic growths were immediately removed. These women were directed to the simulator for a consultation with Malik.
Evelyn arrived with Nina, a quiet, olive-skinned woman, to join Jenna, Sofia, Violet, Maria, and Ileana. They took seats around a relaxed circle of couches, recliners, and easy chairs.
Malik watched as they filed in. “You’ve been shown how to access and use various areas of the ship. Don’t worry about forgetting; everyone is willing to help. The next stage of your freedom involves getting you where you wish to go. If you don’t mind forgetting everything you’ve seen, we can get you home very quickly. Remembering requires more extensive precautions.”
“Like what?” asked Sofia, the blonde.
“Mental strengthening,” he replied. “My primary concern is everyone’s health, which means that the information you learn and see here must be protected. If you’re interrogated and break, everyone on board Pathfinder will be endangered. Training to avoid this would require additional time.”
Sofia paused to consider the unwanted delay. “What’s involved with forgetting?”
“I would touch your minds and permanently remove the information. There would be no recall.”
“What if we needed to remember?” asked Ileana, concerned. “This is a momentous occasion, representing an entirely different existence from the life I’ve always known. I can’t afford to forget. We can’t afford to forget.”
“You would need to be trained and strengthened,” he replied. “Then a protected area within your memory would be constructed. If your training is successful, you can define access to your memories like technicians decide access to networks.”
“How strong would we be?”
“Anywhere from resisting persuasion to completely blocking Creative programming. I will be your strength until you learn it.”