Obsidian Tears

by Jaleta Clegg

  "Who are they?" It was a human voice. I was in too much pain to care.

  Someone patted my cheek. I groaned.

  "This one's Patrol," someone else said. "Full Commander. He looks like he's been living in the bush for a while."

  "So does she," someone said.

  They poked me and shifted me to sit, leaning against someone.

  "It's wearing off."

  They shook me, gently but firmly. I gave up and opened my eyes. I was looking into a face that looked vaguely familiar. The eyes were wrong, though. They should have been darker. These were a pale gray. I looked higher. He had sand colored hair, shot through with red. I looked lower. He wore a uniform of silver. With a captain's bars on his collar.

  "You want to tell us who you are?" he asked me.

  "No," I answered honestly. I wanted to be on that ship Vance and I had seen last night. I wanted to be anywhere but on this ship.

  The man cocked his head to one side, frowning.

  I gave up. "My name's Dace."

  That caused a ripple of whispers. The man watching me didn't seem impressed. I glanced down at the name on his uniform.

  "Hovart?" I asked, surprised.

  He frowned deeper. "Theodus Hovart, captain of the Marissa. Why does it matter?"

  "Do you know Greyson Hovart?" I knew Greyson. I'd worked with him on Vallius. He thought I'd rescued them all. He thought I was undercover Patrol. After he ended up as my guard at my trial for treason, he was never going to be convinced otherwise, no matter what anyone said.

  "He's my uncle," Captain Hovart said. "That Dace?" His eyes widened. "You're a lot younger than I expected."

  "So everyone here knows me," I grumbled.

  "Those that don't will soon enough," Captain Hovart said, his frown changing to a grin.

  "Liftoff, soon," one of them said. They all went quiet, staring overhead. A thin vibration rumbled through the floor.

  "Who's he?" Captain Hovart said, pointing at Vance.

  "Vance. And before you ask, we were sent here by Commander Lowell to find out what was happening with the Sessimoniss. We were shot down."

  "And started a war by the sound of it," someone else added.

  "Good, serve them right," someone muttered. "I just wish we were part of it."

  The ship rumbled, jerking as it lifted. I toppled sideways. They pushed me back up.

  "Where now?" someone else muttered.

  Captain Hovart sat back, running a finger under the collar he wore. I watched him and shuddered, remembering the feeling of a similar band on my neck. He saw my shudder and stopped.

  "What do you know?" he asked as the rumble of engines filled the room.

  "You're slaves," I said baldly. "They control you with the collars." I slumped back against the wall. "Just like on Vallius."

  Chapter 14

  They pressured me to tell them about Vallius, to explain my comment. The one who'd recognized my name pushed forward. He was an engineer, from an Exploration ship.

  "Tell us. You were there, on Vallius. I've heard the stories."

  "It's a guess," I said. "I heard them talking. They use the same language, mostly. The collars are different. I don't know about the weapons, I didn't see them."

  The ship accelerated quickly, pressing me to the floor. My bruises ached. I was ready to give up and die. I couldn't live as a slave. I had to, if I ever wanted to find Tayvis. Only until I could find a way free, I promised myself. I'd done it on Vallius, I could do it now.

  They pushed me to talk. I told them the bald facts about Vallius. It sobered them quickly.

  "This is worse," I said. "They understand their technology. They haven't been fighting just to survive for centuries. They have ships."

  Vance stirred and groaned again. He'd gotten a full dose of whatever they'd hit us with. Attention shifted to him.

  Captain Hovart sat next to me. "What were you doing there? With the Sessimoniss?"

  "It's their world. I was there once before. Lowell sent me back to try to help them. I doubt they make good slaves."

  "They didn't. Most of them died the first day." He looked sideways at me. "Vallius and the Sessimoniss. You travel a lot."

  "You wouldn't believe it if I told you the truth. No one else does."

  "I heard about your trial."

  "Which one?" I was tired. I was depressed. I wanted to curl up and die.

  "You may as well tell me about all of them," he said, trying to grin. I saw the despair in his own eyes. "We've got time."

  "I don't want to remember," I answered.

  He left me alone.

  We flew in silence after that, locked in a room deep in a ship I didn't want to believe even existed. Vance groaned occasionally.

  "Jump," one of them warned as the engine changed pitch.

  The ship slid partway through the jump. It hung on the edge of hyperspace. Gut twisting nausea and pain pounded me in wave after wave. I was close to panicking. This wasn't normal. The ship should have made the transition by now. The moment of hanging on the edge went on and on.

  Hovart leaned close to me, talking over the vibrations that shuddered through the ship. "Different drive system. Just hang on."

  "Hang on to what?" My stomach heaved. I swallowed bile. My eyes wouldn't focus. It was pure agony.

  Someone lost the fight. I heard retching. I clenched my teeth and fought the same urge.

  Hours later the ship finally slid back into normal space. I unlocked my jaw and sighed with relief. I wasn't the only one.

  The tiny room reeked of sweat and vomit. It was small, barely ten feet by fifteen feet. There were at least twenty people jammed in the room. I was the only one not in Patrol uniform. I was the only woman. I scrubbed a hand through my hair.

  "We've got a couple of hours," Hovart said. "There's a bathroom of sorts over there." He pointed to the far corner. A cubby, open to the room, held what looked like a narrow trough and a dripping pipe and nothing else.

  I swallowed hard and shook my head. I wasn't that desperate.

  Vance had woken up the rest of the way during that horrible half jump. He crawled over to me, pushing around the others sprawled out on the floor.

  "We didn't make it," he said.

  "I wish we had," I answered.

  "Vallius?"

  "Worse, like I guessed."

  Vance frowned and shook his head. "I thought you said the Eggstone would knock out their weapons."

  "Maybe for the Sessimoniss." I leaned back against the wall, looking at the low ceiling to avoid looking at Vance. The vibration of a sublight engine buzzed in my head.

  "Eggstone?" Hovart asked.

  I closed my eyes and pretended to be asleep. Let Vance explain. Apparently most of the Patrol had heard of me. I wondered what they said. I didn't mean to fall asleep, but I did, while Vance talked to Hovart.

  I woke up when the ship made another of the half jumps. This time I lost the battle with my stomach. I hunched over, retching up nothing for what felt like eternity. The smell in the room grew worse. I wasn't the only one barfing.

  When the ship passed back into normal space again, I crawled to the bathroom. The water was warm and tasted funny. I washed my face and rinsed out my mouth.

  No one was talking now. Everyone was hunched into his own personal misery. The time before we made another of those strange jumps was shorter this time. We spent longer in that miserable halfway transition. I didn't even have the energy to crawl when we finally came out of it.

  "Long jump this time," someone said. No one answered him.

  We slipped almost immediately into another half jump. And another and another. I endured the half twisted reality, waiting for those breaks of normal space. There was no food, which was good. No one could have kept anything down anyway. Water was almost too much. The tiny room smelled heavily of too many people and too much misery.

  The stretches between jumps grew longer. The agony of half transition grew shorter.

  "We're there," someone
announced after the shortest jump yet.

  The engines changed pitch, the rumble grew heavier. Gravity shoved us down again as the ship maneuvered. Hours passed. We endured. We had no other choice.

  The ship rumbled louder, the sound changed pitch. I crawled back to a spot next to a wall. They made room for me. I sat and wished I was anywhere else than here on this ship.

  The engines whined down and faded out. The vibrations died. The room was silent. I waited, wondering what my fate was now.

  The door slid open. Our captors stood framed in the doorway. One of them wrinkled his nose.

  "Filthy beasts. Move," he shouted. He brandished a short black wand, barely longer than his hand.

  The men in the room stood and shuffled out. They were all at least a head shorter than our captor. I hung back, reluctant to leave. Vance pulled me to my feet. I joined the line leaving the room.

  The guards stopped us both, holding us back to the end of the line. "These must be new," one of them said. I kept my eyes down. I didn't want them to know I understood them. Any advantage I could grab.

  I gasped as pain shot down my back. The guard had tapped me with his wand. He jerked his head to the open hatch of the ship. I shuffled towards it.

  Blinding sunlight reflected off the ground outside. I lifted my arm to shade my eyes.

  "That way, stupid." The guard behind me shoved Vance to one side, after the line of others shuffling into a long shed.

  I turned to follow. A large hand landed heavily on my shoulder. "Not you." I was turned and shoved a different direction, towards a different shed.

  I half expected straw and dirt and primitive conditions. It was high tech inside, gleaming and clean.

  A man dressed in a long robe of pale tan wrinkled his nose. "Do you have to mistreat them every trip? You could at least clean them up a bit before you bring them in."

  "There's a hose out in the courtyard," the first man said.

  The man in the tan robe sniffed. "Take her out and spray her off. I'm not touching her until she's clean."

  The guard pushed me out another door. He turned a hose on me. The water was frigid. I lunged at him, fists out and ready.

  "Fierce, aren't you?" he said and laughed. He pushed me aside.

  I sprawled on a flat pavement of solid stone. He turned up the water pressure. I was too weak to fight. I bit my lip and let the water wash over me. He shoved me onto my back with his foot and kept spraying. I backed away, trying to keep from drowning. He laughed again and shut the water off. He picked me up by the back of my shipsuit and dragged me into the room.

  "Put her there," the man in the tan robe said, pointing to a corner without even looking up from a rack of strange tubes.

  The guard shoved me to the corner and onto a strange looking table.

  "You can leave now," the other man said.

  "She's a fighter. Are you sure you're safe all alone with her?"

  "One undersized human? I think I can handle it," the man in the tan robe answered.

  The guard shrugged and left. I gathered what energy I had and made a dash for the door. I couldn't move. There was some kind of field on the table that kept me glued to it. The man in the tan robe stood over me.

  "Try if you want," he said. "You won't get far. This would be easier if you could understand me, but that comes later." He reached for my shipsuit front.

  I slapped his hand. He narrowed his eyes. He twitched something on the side of the table. The field snapped to a higher level. I was pulled down flat. He wasn't affected by the field. He stripped my clothes off as clinically as if I were an animal.

  I lay on the table, cold and tired and naked. He walked away. The table hummed. My teeth itched. I shivered. He came back and adjusted the side of the table. He flicked a glance over me, tapping his teeth with a finger. The table hummed again. He watched me while I shivered. He touched something else. A sharp tingle of pain shot through me. He walked away. I shivered while the table buzzed in my head.

  He came back, frowning. "What are you? I know you understand me. You've been exposed to a reduxial field before. But there aren't any records of you." He did something else to the table.

  I screamed as the wave of pain scrambled my brain. It passed. I lay on the table, gasping for air like a fish.

  "Interesting results," the man muttered.

  The field died. I was too exhausted to do anything about it. The man prodded me off the table and across the room to a different piece of equipment. I struggled when he reached for straps dangling from one side of the machine. He hit me across the face, knocking my head into the wall. Tears of pain clouded my vision. He shoved me into the machine and strapped me in.

  What followed was strange and humiliating. Every inch of me was examined and recorded. The man treated me like a slab of meat, an object, nothing more. He watched his screens, looking almost bored. When the machine finished, he left me hanging in the straps. He walked out. I was alone. Not that it did me any good.

  He came back a few minutes later with another man. This one wore a more impressive outfit of fitted cloth that rippled with muted colors. Some corner of my brain catalogued it, calculating how much I could sell the cloth for, if I could get my hands on some. Most of my brain was in pure survival mode, trying to ignore the fact I was naked and hungry and cold. Part of me wanted to die. Most of me wanted to find a way to run.

  The first man did something to his controls. The straps snapped away from my arms. I dropped to the floor. I crouched on hands and knees, unable to move. I stared at the floor.

  "She's not suitable for the breeding program," the first man said. "I wouldn't recommend her for anything but disposal at this point. Too much trouble. She tried to fight me."

  "And didn't win." The second man's voice was deep, rich and mellow. His words left me cold. "Make her stand. I wish to look at her."

  "She understands us," the first man said. He crossed the room and kicked me. "I don't quite know how. The scans don't match anything I've seen before." He kicked me again. "Stand up."

  I stood. I hurt where he'd kicked me. Something beeped and he turned away to check his equipment. I snarled and lunged at him, locking my hands around his neck. The larger man in the rippling outfit lifted me away from the other man. The man shook me, holding me off the floor by the back of my neck. I couldn't breathe, he was choking me. He shook me again before dropping me to the floor. I landed on my hands and knees again, coughing and hacking.

  "I see what you meant," the man said.

  I lunged for the door, trying to get past the man's feet. He kicked me. I crumpled back to the floor.

  "Is she fully grown?" he asked the man in the tan robe.

  "Fully mature, yes."

  "So short," his deep voice slid over me.

  I crouched and shivered, out of energy to fight.

  "My daughter's birthday is in three trangas," he said. The word wouldn't translate for me. "I wish her to be suitably trained by then. She would make an interesting pet." They weren't discussing his daughter, they were talking about me.

  "Reashay is the trainer you want," the man in the tan robe said. "She can work miracles on these humans. Her methods are harsh but effective."

  "Is she well enough?"

  "The specimen is healthy enough. The bruises and other damage are superficial."

  I gathered what dregs of energy I could and made one last break for the door. I was smacked back to the floor.

  "Reashay charges steep prices."

  "She is the best. And I can afford her prices. Why don't you just say it, Arvi? I'm paying you enough for this exam."

  "It isn't usual, and you know it. New slaves are not given to an individual. They are processed and sent to the center for training first."

  "Are you insinuating something?"

  "Not in the least, des Tuarik. I'm being paid not to notice or insinuate."

  "Good. Get her to Reashay and make the arrangements. I will contact her later to negotiate payment."

&nb
sp; He left. The man in the tan robe stood over me. He kicked me.

  "Get up. You're going to your new home now."

  Chapter 15

  He didn't offer me clothing. He shoved me into the back of a transport. I was shut in the dark. The transport rumbled and vibrated. I sat with my hands hanging. I was naked, I didn't know where I was, and I was in more trouble than I'd ever been in before. I saw no chance of escape, no way out.

  The transport jerked to a stop, spilling me against the side panel. The door jerked open. The man in the tan robe prodded me out. I stumbled onto packed dirt. We were in a walled yard that had one tree drooping sadly in the center. Its tiny leaves offered scant shade from the sun overhead.

  A woman at least seven feet tall stared down at me. She wore a fitted robe of dark blue with full sleeves. Form fitting black pants and high boots completed her outfit. I looked up at her face, finding a tiny pocket of anger still burning in me. She had dark hair, twisted in a complicated knot on her head. Her face was pinched and cruel.

  "I do not wish to take on this creature," she said.

  "Des Tuarik will pay well. He wishes this one trained as a pet for his daughter."

  Her hand, wrapped in a tight glove, pinched my face. She jerked my head to the side, prodding at my mouth. "She is trouble. Is she fully grown?"

  "Des Tuarik asked the same question. Scans indicate she is fully mature."

  "Shorter than a child." The woman let go of my face. "He wishes me to break her spirit? It will cost him."

  She reached for me again. I reacted, attacking with both fists. She slapped me. I crashed backwards, slamming into the side of the transport before landing in the dirt.

  "Triple my usual fee. If she were to be sent to the breeding pens, it would be simpler."

  "She is unsuited for breeding," the man in the tan robe said. "He wants a house pet."

  "Then he will pay. And if she dies, it will not be my fault."

  "He said he would make arrangements later. He only paid me to evaluate her and deliver her to you. Reashay, you are the best. If anyone can tame her, it will be you."