by Joanna Wylde
“I won’t tell,” Bethany said, squeezing the younger woman’s hand. “Don’t worry about me. Worry about him.”
“I do,” Moriah said, a tear welling up in her eye. “I worry about him all the time.”
There was nothing Bethany could say in response. Moriah would have to find her own way through this.
* * * * *
Sixth cycle after the mine collapse
Jess had just about figured out the routine. Bethany would arrive each cycle as the blasters were coming up from the mine. She would check on him briefly and then go to get the food.
By the time she came back with the second cart the guards would have arrived. They sounded the wake-up, and the men would hurry to get out of bed and get ready. Then she would arrive with the third cart and they would eat.
Fifteen minutes later the men spilled out of the barracks and suited up. They would go down into the mine for the day’s work and stay there for the next fourteen hours.
The most valuable piece of information he had gleaned was that even as the slaves were working, the majority of the Pilgrims slept. And there were very few guards at the mine. He’d always assumed that the entire contingent was there throughout the cycle. But within minutes of the last slave entering the mine, all but two of the guards left. Halfway through the slaves’ work cycle the guards were relieved by two new men. Other than that, the compound was left empty.
Empty except for him and Bethany.
It was perfect for his plans.
She popped her head in to check on him even before the blasters came up. He heard her coming, and pretended to sleep. She was more likely to touch him if she thought he was unconscious; when he was awake she seemed nervous. If he had been less honest with himself, he could have rationalized pretending to sleep by saying it was so he could spy on her. But he was more than willing to admit his real purpose. He wanted her to touch him. He wanted to smell her scent, to feel her soft warm flesh against his. When she’d given him the water the night before, it had been like touching heaven. He wanted more of that heaven.
He could hear the faint swish of her skirts as she approached his pallet. Her breathing was light, as if she were afraid to disturb him even in so small a way. Then she was kneeling next to him, and her cool fingers were touching his forehead.
It was all he could do to keep from moaning aloud.
Instead, he fluttered his lashes and looked up at her sleepily. Her green eyes blinked, and a soft smile stole across her face.
“How are you today?” she asked, her voice a smooth purr in his ears. As always in her presence, he hardened. How much more of this torture could he take? He didn’t care how difficult it was. He wanted to listen to her talk forever.
“I’m all right,” he whispered, voice raspy. “Can you help me with some water? I’d really like something to eat, too, if you’ve got it.”
“I’ll help you with the water,” she said. “But we’ll have to wait for Bragan to make sure it’s all right for you to eat. I don’t want to do anything that might hurt you.”
“You could never hurt me,” he said without thinking. She blushed, then looked away from him. She was like a beautiful flower he’d once seen, grown hydroponically in a station greenhouse. Shy and flushed, almost afraid to look straight at him. So lovely…
“I have good news for you,” she said. “I managed to get some pain pills. Once Bragan says it’s all right you’ll be able to take some for your neck. I’m sure that will help.”
“I’m sure it will, too,” he replied.
“I need to get more water, I’ll be right back.”
She stood and left the small room. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply. Her smell was still in the room. Soon she would be touching him again. If there was one thing he’d learned during his time in the mines, it was to take each moment and savor it.
Being with her was definitely worth savoring.
She came back after a second with the water and knelt beside him again. Then she was lifting him in her arms again, cradling his head against her breast just as she had the night before. It was wonderful, even better than he remembered.
This time he sipped slowly at the water she held to his lips. The longer it took him to drink, the longer it would be before she left. At least that was the theory. Unfortunately they were interrupted all too soon by the sounds of the blasters returning from work. She gave a startled little gasp, then lowered him quickly to his pallet. Of course, there was one good thing about her self-consciousness, he told himself. She was clearly as aware of him as he was of her. He liked that idea.
“I have to go and get the food,” she said, standing. “Bragan will be in to check on you soon. We’ll find out about the food and the pain killers then. I’ll be back.”
With that she was gone, scurrying off to get the carts.
He listened quietly as she brought each cart. Then the noise level rose as the men came out to suit up. The door opened, and Bragan stepped in.
“We’ve only got a minute or so, she’s coming back,” Bragan said. “I have good news. She had no idea how much pain medication you might need, so she’s brought ten tabs. She says she can get more if we need them.”
“Will that be enough?” Jess asked.
“It will be enough for five men,” Bragan said. “You’ll have to convince her you’re in more pain so she’ll keep giving them to us.”
“When are you going to start removing the implants?” Jess asked.
“I’m doing Logan’s today,” Bragan said. “It’s the most risky, because I’ll have to do it in the mine in a pressure tent. We’ve decided we can’t risk doing this first one in the barracks. Once Logan’s done, he can stand guard while I do the others during the sleep cycle. We don’t know if this will work. If he doesn’t recover enough in one cycle to keep working, they’ll get suspicious”
“What if he doesn’t recover?” Jess asked.
“Then he’ll have a mining accident,” Bragan said grimly. “I’m not willing to sacrifice myself for your plot. You know that already.”
“Does Logan know?”
“Yes, he knows,” Bragan answered. “And he’s willing to take the chance. Remember, his wound won’t be as serious as yours. Of course, taking out the implant may paralyze him completely, but I’ve been able to study yours. It wasn’t as hard to remove as you’d think. I guess someone was feeling cheap when they ordered supplies.”
Bragan started to say more, but he was cut off as Bethany entered the room.
“How is he doing, Bragan?” she asked quietly.
“He’s doing all right, but I’m a little concerned,” Bragan said, his face serious. “I’ve looked under his bandage and the flesh around the wound appears to be a little red and flushed. There’s a bit of infection there. We’ll have to keep a close eye on him.”
“I think I can do that,” she said slowly.
“How about the pain meds?” Jess whispered weakly. “Will I be able to take those, Bragan?”
“Yes, you will,” Bragan said. He turned to Bethany. “I want you to give him one every two hours. Preferably with food. Will that be a problem?”
“No,” she said, looking surprised. “But isn’t that an awful lot of pain medication? I’ve seen my father take two before, but they knock him out for hours at a time.”
Bragan looked serious.
“The type of infection he’s developing can be very serious,” he replied. “And very painful. If he isn’t given the meds he may hurt himself as it grows worse.”
“Should I be crushing them and putting them in his food?” she asked quietly. “It might make it easier for him.”
“No,” Bragan said quickly. He exchanged a quick glance with Jess. “No, in fact you should let him take the pills himself. It will help him moderate his consumption of them. We don’t want him to become addicted.”
She frowned.
“Bragan, I don’t want to seem difficult, but that doesn’t make any sense to me. He can’t e
ven drink by himself, how will he take the pill?”
“You can place it in his hand and help him lift it to his mouth,” Bragan said quickly.
“How does that keep him from getting addicted?” she asked skeptically. Bragan snorted, and stood up abruptly. His face grew cold.
“Are you an Imperially-trained physician?”
“No,” she said quickly.
“Do you have any medical training at all?”
“No,” she whispered. Jess bit his lip, trying not to laugh. Bragan was bluffing so hard it was almost pitiable.
“Well, then I suggest you don’t question my methods,” Bragan said coldly. “I saved this man’s life and I’m keeping him alive now. I performed surgery on him in a pressurized tent, for love of the Goddess. How can I possibly be expected to explain years of training and theory on addiction to you? You don’t even have the vocabulary to understand the scientific reasons he needs to be taking his own medication. Give me one of them right now and I’ll show you how to do it. No, give me two. He’s suffered all the past cycle. This will help get the pain under control.”
She gulped, then nodded. Bragan took the tabs from her and knelt beside Jess.
“Place them in his hand like this,” Bragan said, pretending to give Jess the pills. Jess played along, clutching his fingers around the imaginary drugs. As Bragan lifted his head, Jess winced. Somehow being helped by the doctor wasn’t the same as being helped by Bethany. It would be nice to take one of those pain pills, although he wouldn’t dream of doing it. If they were going to escape, they’d need every one of them.
“Then raise his hand to his mouth,” Bragan continued. “This allows him to have control over the medication, to make a choice about taking it.”
Jess obligingly pretended to drop the pills into his mouth. Next time he’d have to find a way to hide them in his hand during this…perhaps between his fingers? That might work.
“Now lift the water and let him wash it down,” Bragan said in a condescending tone. “Can you do that, or is it too complex for you?”
“Yes, of course,” she said, her voice tight. “I’m perfectly capable of helping him do that.”
She sounded upset, and to his surprise he felt compassion for her. Ruthlessly he pushed the feeling aside, forcing his heart to grow cold. He couldn’t afford to have warm feelings toward any Pilgrim.
“You see,” Bragan said, lowering Jess’ head. “It’s relatively straightforward. I’m sure you can handle this. Remember, two pills every hour.”
“I’ll remember,” she said, her voice soft. She stood and left the room quickly. Bragan shook his head.
“I feel so bad for treating her like this.”
“Don’t,” Jess said. “She’s one of them. She may be beautiful and she may be kind, but her people are the reason we’re working ourselves to death here. I don’t want to hurt her any more than you do, but I won’t let compassion for her stop me from getting out of here. I would advise you to do the same.”
“You’re right,” Bragan answered. “She is one of them. I just wish that she wasn’t.”
“So do I,” Jess replied softly. “So do I.”
* * * * *
It was a long day for Bethany. She helped Jess drink and take his medications. She fed him several times, always cradling his head against her body and feeding him herself. The cold porridge seemed disgusting to her, but he was happy enough to eat it. Of course it was slow going for him. Each session took at least twenty minutes, all of it spent with him lying against her breasts. She was so embarrassed. Every time he touched her it seemed as if her heartbeat grew fast and fluttery. Her nipples responded to each movement he made. She was terrified that he would notice the two tight nubs under her clothing. Thankfully, he seemed completely unaware of her discomfort. It was one small blessing.
By the time the day ended she was exhausted. Between trying to get all her chores done and caring for Jess, she’d barely had time to run to the infirmary and get more pain meds. He was getting sicker over the course of the day. She could see it in the confusion on his face, the way he turned to her without recognition. Several times he spoke, rambling and saying things she couldn’t understand. At one point he started thrashing about, and she’d been forced to throw herself over his body, pressing him to the pallet with all her weight. He’d settled down after that, at least for a while, although he grew worse whenever she tried to leave him. Finally she simply gave up and snuggled down with him in the pallet.
The strange thing was that he didn’t feel particularly warm or feverish to her. But then again, she wasn’t a doctor, she reminded herself. Bragan knew what he was talking about. It wasn’t her place to question.
Part II: The Revolt
Chapter Five
Jess was growing restless. It was so hard to keep up his pretense of being an invalid. Ten cycles had passed since his accident and the men were nearly ready for their revolt. He could tell that if they didn’t move soon they’d have problems. Bose had been in to check on him once already. Something about the man’s manner, standing over him in utter silence as his hands twitched uncontrollably, made Jess even more nervous than he’d been before. He wasn’t sure the station leader would give him the full two weeks.
Bethany wasn’t making things any easier for him. Initially she had been so attentive; something he’d done changed that. He suspected she’d seen him hiding one of the pain tabs. Now she watched him like a hawk, and their supply of pain killers had stopped. She might not know what was up, but she no certainly longer trusted Jess and Bragan. That was clear enough. She wasn’t willing to touch him any more. Jess missed those touches more than he cared to admit. It had been so wonderful to feel her against his skin. From the gentle sensation of her fingers against his cheek to the softness of her breast against his head, everything about her mesmerized him. Watching her every day without once being able to touch her was unbearable.
Even more unbearable was the fact that he couldn’t do anything to counteract her newfound caution. If he pinned her against a wall, took her in the storeroom, she would know he was much stronger than he pretended to be. The game would be over.
Still, he burned for her. He pretended he was tired of staying in the close confines of the storage room, told her he needed to get out and move a bit. Every morning she watched with hooded eyes while he slowly and painfully walked out into the main room, settling on a pallet he made from his blankets. She never offered to help him, although she took care to make sure he had water at all times.
Fortunately, she didn’t seem to mind leaving him alone in the room as she ran her errands. Whatever she was afraid of, it never occurred to her that he might steal her supplies, he thought grimly. He now had a wickedly sharp pair of scissors in his possession, as well as a small knife. They might be small but he figured they would be more than enough to slit a man’s throat. All he had to do was kill the two guards at the head of the mineshaft. Then he could free Logan and the 28 other men who had volunteered to have their implants removed…
He closed his eyes in sadness for a moment. There were supposed to be 30 men. Two had died under Bragan’s knife. Officially, the Pilgrims believed they’d been killed in mining accidents. Everything was ready; it was time to make their move. One more cycle and he would creep softly down the tunnel toward the guards. He would slit their throats slowly and deliberately, then send the elevator down for Logan and the men. Timing was everything. He had to move right after the guards changed shifts, mid-cycle. This meant the men he had to kill would be relatively fresh, which concerned him. But the added benefits of striking while the entire station slept and no change of guard was expected seemed worth the risk. He and Logan had gone over the escape a hundred times over the past few cycles, while he was ostensibly “showering” in the slave barracks with Bragan’s help.
Their plans were clear.
Bethany was the key to those plans. He would take her hostage, then they’d use her to trick the guards into opening the
locked door to the mining complex. He didn’t like the idea, of course. She would be in some danger right at the beginning. But they were at war and she was his enemy’s daughter. After the next cycle he would never be a slave again; she was a necessary part of that. It was too late for regrets.
She came into the room with the first of the food carts, interrupting his thoughts. He nodded at her. It still amazed him that they would leave her alone with him for hours at a time, no sign of a guard. Just one more example that she was of little value to her people. He thought of his sister Calla, and his heart ached. No matter what she did, whatever personal failings she might have, he would never have treated her the way Bethany’s family treated her.
It simply wasn’t right.
“How are you feeling?” she asked him courteously. She used her foot to kick down the cart’s brake and walked over to the counter.
He already knew what she was doing—she was getting him his bowl of gruel before it got cold. Why she did it he had no idea. His company seemed to make her nervous; for all she knew his very existence could cost her life. Yet she still took the time to bring him his food before it had time to cool.
“Enjoy your dinner,” she said, giving him a brief smile. “I have to go and get the other carts.”
“Thank you,” he said politely, reaching out to take the bowl from her. He deliberately stretched his fingers so he could touch her hand. That spark of awareness leapt between them, and he tried to capture her gaze with his. He loved looking deep into those cat eyes. Too bad she was afraid to meet his stare.
“I have to go,” she said, her voice cracking.
Jess smiled. She could pretend all she wanted but there was no way she could deny their attraction. She wanted him just as much as he wanted her. Once the revolt was over and the station belonged to the slaves, he was going to make her admit it.
* * * * *
Bethany put both hands against the small of her back, enjoying the way it stretched her aching spine. The carts were so heavy… at least she was done with them for now. The men were locked in their barracks. Soon the blasting crews would enter the mine, and she should get some sleep.
