Star Assassin

by D. R. Rosier

  She replied, “Until I believe you are stable, that you will not harm yourself or others, and that you have been sufficiently briefed on your new reality.”

  “Okay, first off, humans only live eighty to a hundred years, not a few hundred. Second, I’m going to die in four days.”

  She replied, “Incorrect. Human slaves with health nanites to monitor and correct genetic degradation which is the primary cause for aging, can extend the human life well past a thousand years, and possibly up to two thousand. We won’t be sure of the exact extension for a long time. As for your impending death in four days, that is no longer an issue. The drug has been completely purged from your system, which is why in your words, you feel wrung out.”

  That was impossible, or was it? I narrowed my eyes, it didn’t take me long to figure out the truth. The drugs didn’t help me at all, there was no chemical imbalance in my body. It’d been a lie they’d filled my mind with all my life. The bastards had addicted my body to some substance that would kill me from withdrawal, if I stopped taking it once a week. Just a control so I wouldn’t step out of line. If I ever got back to Earth, there was a whole lot of shitty people that just made it on my kill list.

  It also told me the medical nanites kicked ass, and knew what they were doing. Which meant I was far from the first human to be taken.

  “So how does this work, and what happens if I’m emancipated? Also, how many humans have been emancipated in the last hundred years.”

  She replied, “All food, health nanites, myself, air, space, and water, cost a certain amount of credits. There is also the possibility of buying luxuries to improve the quality of your life. Each service you perform in your duties, are worth a certain amount of credits. The harder you work, the more credits you earn. You don’t have to worry about being sick, it just won’t happen again, ever. No humans at this time have achieved emancipation, but that is no reason to believe the offer is a lie. The Stolavii have only been farming your world for two hundred years. There are several humans who are more than half way toward the two hundred thousand credits you need to buy your freedom.”

  I growled, “Why offer it at all, and what happens when we’re free?”

  She replied, “The why is simple. Incentive. Slaves without hope won’t work and are more inclined to rebel. However, given that the Stolavii have increased your life expectancy, somewhere between ten and twenty times, and are only asking for hard work for about fifteen percent of that time, most humans are very accepting of this. There will be no torture for cruelties sake, they are disciplinarian for disruptive or non-working people, but leave the hard workers alone.

  “Once freedom has been achieved, there are many opportunities in the galaxy. A slave will be earning about ten percent wages, and pays for things that are free for someone not a slave. So, the skies the limit once you’re free, and all Stolavii will respect a freed slave as emancipated. It’s a big galaxy, and the Stolavii are only one race.”

  I frowned, “Do all the races use slaves?”

  The last thing I needed to do was work for three hundred years, and be taken as a slave again by some other race. Not that I was at all interested in that plan, not yet anyway. I still hoped for escape. I had a list of people back home to kill, and in three hundred years they’d have all escaped my wrath in old age and death.

  Ann replied, “No. Slavery is illegal in the Isythian empire, which compromises four of the ten known races. Two other independent races don’t like slavery, but they’re also somewhat xenophobic, sometimes violently and should be avoided if possible. The last two races have their own empires, and are far away from our part of the galaxy.”

  I frowned, “That was only eight. Nine with the Stolavii.”

  Ann replied, “Humans.”

  I closed my eyes, I was an idiot not to include humanity as one of the ten known races. In my defense, I still had a splitting headache, was angry, and wondering just how fucked I was. So, all those humans that disappeared, and are never seen again. Slaves of an alien race. Who’d have guessed, outside of the conspiracy nut jobs I mean.

  “So, the empire doesn’t like the Stolavii?”

  Ann said, “That is correct, they often have skirmishes in space, but there hasn’t been a war between them in a long time. The Stolavii are like the mercenaries of your world, and are even hired by the other races even as they disparage them.”

  “And they’re occasionally pirates I’d bet.”

  It made sense, if they kidnapped and enslaved humans, and were mercenaries for hire, they were pretty scummy.

  Ann said, “I do not have that data, but it’s entirely likely.”

  “What kind of luxuries?”

  Ann replied, “Downloadable knowledge, entertainment and communication devices. There is something much like the internet on your world, but for this part of the galaxy. Pleasure devices, and other such things. You can’t afford any of that right now, you have to work to pay off your nanites, and the air, food, water, and space you consume on this vessel. Once you have a surplus of credits, you can afford luxuries. I would suggest being frugal, or you could extend your slavery a great deal.”

  Duh. I didn’t say that though.

  “Downloadable knowledge?”

  Ann replied, “It’s very expensive, but if you were curious about FTL travel and other scientific knowledge you could have the science of it directly downloaded to your brain.”

  Right, like college, but in minutes instead of years. Things just kept getting crazier.

  I couldn’t help but ask, “How does FTL work?”

  Ann replied, “Two ways. Wormholes that lead from one point to another almost instantaneously, up to fifty light years away. Some of the larger more powerful ships can double that range. The second involves subspace, it’s quite a bit slower, taking a day rather than seconds to go fifty light years, but it’s also a lot cheaper. Generating a wormhole consumes many thousands of times the energy that opening an aperture to subspace costs. While vacuum energy is freely available, the systems that extract it, convert it, and use it have a rated life by energy consumption.”

  “Sub-light?”

  Ann replied, “Impulse or gravity drive by creating a gradient. The limit to that technology is two hundred gravities for the ship we are aboard, due to the inertial dampening systems. It will take us another three hours to be at the minimum distance of five A.U. from your sun, before we can use the subspace drive and leave the Sol system.”

  “So… four A.U. from Earth, which means I’ve been out for six hours?”

  There was a pause, if I didn’t know better I’d say the artificial assistant in my head was startled.

  “Correct, you figured that out in your head?”

  I shrugged, “Yes, why?”

  “Some jobs as slaves pay more than others, we need to determine what job you will fill. While sensitive areas like the bridge and engineering are off limits to slaves, there are some technical posts you could fill.”

  I frowned, “Wouldn’t I need to buy a download for that? Figuring out acceleration is easy, figuring out the electronics on a space ship with technology beyond any knowledge on earth is another matter.”

  Was I seriously considering this? The plan I wanted was the one where I went on a killing spree, and hijacked the ship. Then went home and killed the fucking scientists who’d made me a weapon and addicted me to a deadly drug.

  I was sure it wouldn’t be that easy though, maybe I should bide my time, and learn first. Accept a job, and go with the flow. That was the professional thing to do. An assassin didn’t just get the target name and take the shot, not a professional one at least. I’d studied my marks and their routines very carefully before acting in the past. To do less than that here, would probably end with me being spaced.

  She replied, “No, you’d have to get a download if you wanted to understand the physics and science behind the technology, to build one yourself. But someone of high intelligence, with my aid, could easily operate or repair
advanced technology. Just like back home, you surfed the internet, and watched TV, but that doesn’t mean you could build a television, or a network device.”

  That was true enough. It was also a place to start.

  “What about other humans, when I’m let out of here, will we be free to mix?”

  She replied, “Yes. Though violence would be stiffly fined by anyone that started it.”

  That, is it sad that it sounded good to me? I’d held myself apart for my whole life, I wasn’t even sure if I was capable of being close to someone.

  “Alright, so, what are my options for jobs? List the top five paying jobs.”

  Ann replied, “In order of highest paying, main ship subsystems repair, which is changing out old modules for new ones, and doing troubleshooting when required. I can help you with that, I don’t think it would take you long to catch on. There are a lot of systems outside of the sensitive areas that the slaves take care of, and the diagnostic computers are easy enough to learn. The second job would be shuttle and fighter maintenance on the flight deck, which is similar in nature but for the small ships.”

  “Question,” I interrupted.

  “Go ahead,” Ann replied.

  “If you can help me with it, why do they need slaves at all. Can’t they just load your software on a repair droid or something?”

  Ann said, “Artificial intelligence is highly regulated by the Stolavii. The Isythian empire does use artificial assistants both in their ships’ main systems, and in repair and battle droids. As a result, their crews are much smaller even on their large battleships. The Stolavii prefer to use slaves. Believe it or not, it’s cheaper to use slaves, since they’re only paying you ten percent of what the job would actually be worth otherwise. Robotics and the power requirements cost more than air and food on balance, plus they are untrusting of an artificial intelligence making decisions without input from an organic.”

  “Right.”

  I guessed it would be cheaper, if they were only paying ten percent, plus they didn’t have to give sick days with the nanites keeping us healthy, or pay people for not working since we were slaves. Plus, it was obviously very expensive technology to tap vacuum energy, and limited in life before they needed a replacement power core, or whatever the hell they called it.

  “Continue please.”

  Ann said, “The third highest paying job for slaves is not technical in nature, they are the pleasure providers.”

  “Woah! What do they look like?”

  It was already a no, but I was curious.

  Ann replied, “The Stolavii are similar in appearance to Earth apes, except they have shorter hair which is a light red, and dark red skin.”

  “Definitely a no. Four and five?”

  Ann replied, “Resources and steward, respectively. Resources would require changing out food ingredients and keeping the food synthesizers stocked. A steward operates the synthesizers and brings the food to the crew, and may be sent on other errands.”

  I replied quickly, perhaps too quickly.

  “I’m thinking the shuttle and fighter maintenance.”

  There was a pause, “There is a ninety-three percent probability that you picked that with hopes to commandeer a spacecraft and escape.”

  I frowned, definitely too quickly. I thought fast.

  “It just sounds interesting, and less boring than swapping parts in the walls. Is the pay difference large?”

  She replied, “The difference is negligible. Assuming you were frugal with your credits, it would take approximately six months longer to save up your two hundred thousand credits.”

  That was only… point one two percent of a difference.

  “But I could make that up by working longer hours?”

  She said, “A slave’s shift is fourteen Earth hours long. That leaves two hours for relaxation, and eight for rest.”

  Ouch, that was a hell of a pace for three hundred years.

  She added, “Would it make a difference if I told you the security access you have would never successfully let you access a shuttle or fighter for launch? While that could be worked around, it would take time and effort, and I would be forced to report you. You would be fined, given a lesser job adding years to your slavery, and would be bored out of your mind with drudgery. In addition, the landing bay would be a far more dangerous place to be during battle, than in the interior of the ship helping with damage control. Also, just in case you did succeed, you’d be marooned in the system and either be recaptured, shot out of space, or run out of resources and die. Fighters and shuttles have no FTL systems, they’re too small for the required power systems for those devices to be installed.”

  “Okay, got it. Main ship subsystems it is, if I get a choice.”

  Ann said, “Very well, good decision. If I let you out of your room, will you behave? Several of your species is in the common area already.”

  “Wait, this is my room?”

  Ann said, “Yes, in addition to the small sink, there is also a waste receptacle and a sonic shower. Water is for drinking only. Other luxuries may be added later.”

  Right, if I was willing to pay for them, and extend my time as a slave.

  “Yes, I’ll behave. I’m not a violent person.”

  It was true enough, I’d never been in a fight or started one in my life. Outside of my training that is, and my assignments to kill. That so didn’t count.

  The door slid open, I took a deep breath and walked out…

  Chapter Four

  The common area was as stark as my room or cell. It had nothing in it save the four metal walls, and some chairs and tables.

  I was an assassin, trained to observe and not miss anything. I thought I had it together in this strange situation, cool as a cucumber as they say. Well, turns out it was just the isolation and perhaps a little shock that had me feeling in control, because as I evaluated the room full of people my heart started to pound, and I felt ill and shaky.

  The men and women in this room drove the truth home in my mind, and shattered that placid calm. I was a slave, and would be for three to four centuries. Which was… insane. Humans couldn’t live that way, sure the payoff of a much longer life sounded good, but it was just too far away.

  I stumbled a bit, and sat in the closest chair.

  The new people were obvious, they sat in shock, and there was a mixture of resignation, disbelief, and fear on their faces. The older ones were obvious as well. They looked… empty. Apathetic. A few of them were also playing cards, I wondered how many credits or years it cost to buy a deck of cards.

  Humans could put off work life balance for a while, but eventually they would go crazy. How could anyone defer it for three centuries without going crazy? Fourteen hour days and empty rooms? Even the few years it might take to earn credits for access to their entertainment network would pressure most minds.

  Then of course, there was the guard by the door at the far end. The common area was simply a very wide hallway, with doors along the three walls to all of our jail cells. Rooms my ass. Ann’s description was a little bit right, the Stolavii were very wide and muscular, like a red gorilla, but their heads were a bit elongated and their faces didn’t jut out. I wondered if I could even take one of them, they were all muscle. I also wondered at the pleasure provider option, did any females actually choose that option? I’d rather die. I take that back, I’d rather kill them.

  Ann said, “I’m detecting elevated levels of stress.”

  I laughed unsteadily, which drew a few apathetic looks. I got up on my feet, and walked over to the card players. It was time to gain information, I couldn’t make any good decisions without learning, and these guys would be a better source than Ann, they were living it.

  “Hi guys, I’m Lori. Any advice or insights?”

  They both looked up at me, and one of them sighed.

  “Sit, I’m Joseph, and this is my partner Emil.”

  I slid into the seat, they both looked to be about thirty, did that
mean they were here two hundred years? Were these the men most of the way toward freedom that Ann had mentioned? Most of the rest of the people in the room looked in their early twenties, even the apathetic looking ones that had obviously been here a while. These two looked almost human, and I wondered what their secret was. I guessed that the older homeless were too old to bother picking up for slavery.

  It also told me a disturbing fact. Most slaves wouldn’t live long enough to claim the prize. They were either killed by their actions or insanity I’d guess.

  Emil said, “Don’t try to escape, they hate that darling. They’ll put you in a jail for six months, and charge you for food and water, but you won’t make any credits. If you don’t make them up fast enough, or you do it again, they’ll space you.”

  Joseph said, “It takes about ten years to afford entertainment, most humans go around the bend after a year or two of this. That’s a killer eight-year gap. Day after day, with nothing to do but stare at the walls or work. They get tired of talking too, or from losing friends to insanity, violence, or simply because there’s nothing left to say. They usually do something stupid and get themselves spaced, or they commit suicide. You’re a cute filly, I’d suggest you find a nice man whose been here a while, and… come to an agreement. Not just for the access to entertainment, but for companionship. I’m convinced that’s the only reason Emil and I haven’t lost our minds yet.”

  I wanted to be offended by that, had he just suggested I whore myself out for internet, or galaxy-net, whatever they called it here? But, it obviously wasn’t a proposition, both these men were gay, and together. Still, I bristled at the idea, but held my tongue. There was also a part of me that realized three hundred years was a long ass time without sex, and if I had to make a connection why not choose one of the older ones that had already paid for benefits? Ugh, that was so wrong.

  “You’ve been here a long time?”

  Emil laughed, “You could say that. This ship is only six years old, and we belong to the captain and his family. When he gets a new ship, so do we, or if he retires we’ll most likely get sold to someone else. It’s been about two hundred years, and this is our sixth ship. There was a short five year stretch that we were actually on a space station orbiting Stolavis. Our current captain is high up the food chain, not many ships bigger than this one.”