Most, like the white Percheron in front of her, appeared unnaturally large and healthier than any animal Jet had seen before coming here.
Jet also couldn’t help thinking of the beast in terms of her old life.
This one horse would feed the entire skag settlement where Jet was born. She guessed enough meat lived on its sturdy frame for every man, woman and child to have a full stomach, if only for a night, with maybe a few meals in leftovers to spare.
If they put it in a stew, made broth from the bones, it would last even longer.
Weeks, maybe. More likely months.
The cows struck her the same.
Here they provided a curiosity, and currently, a means of entertaining Ogli.
At home, they would feed hundreds, or better yet, provide milk and cheese for longer than that. If even a couple of them could be acclimatized to the higher radiation levels of her old skag city outside Vancouver, and hidden from roving bandits, maybe even in underground pens, they could perhaps breed them into a small herd over time.
Jet found herself wondering if she could somehow smuggle out a few pigs, maybe a calf or two, in the event she and Anaze were forced to escape.
If she could obtain a breeding pair, keep them alive, hold off the other skags from killing them, they’d have a real chance to survive long-term. Maybe if she did well enough in the Rings, she could convince the Royals to give her a few as prizes––have them sent north to her family via Richter, or even Anaze.
Thinking of Anaze, she found herself wondering again where he was.
She assumed he was off amusing himself somewhere, assuming he wasn’t with his father.
He wouldn’t tell her much of anything about where he spent his days of late. He dropped vague clues, here and there, but nothing specific, likely due to the heavy surveillance in the two-room suite they shared as their quarters.
The Nirreth still seemed to view Anaze as leverage over her, but other than that, they seemed to have left him to his own devices––unlike Jet, who was stuck with language lessons, learning Nirreth customs and history along with the rules of etiquette and other elements of “assimilation” as per Nirreth practice with new slaves.
Either way, Anaze hadn’t managed to sneak them out of the palace since that first night, so they’d had no time to talk privately.
Since that night, they’d constantly been under the watchful eyes of Nirreth security.
Jet herself had been pretty busy ever since she’d petitioned her owners formally to be allowed to fight in the Rings. They were delighted of course… or so Jet had been told, since she hadn’t actually seen them, but had petitioned through Laksri and two representatives of the Royal Guard as witnesses.
They’d expected her to offer, of course.
Richter sold her to them on that premise, assuring them that Jet’s fondest ambition was to rise to celebrity status in the Nirreth Rings.
Why they would buy that, about any human, Jet had no idea, but buy it, they did.
They positively gushed over her, actually, sending her congratulatory letters and presents that bewildered Jet more than flattered her.
But Jet had noticed a number of weird things about the Nirreth in that regard, in the few weeks she’d been here.
For example, the Nirreth positively loved it when humans played by their rules. They were completely charmed by it, especially if the human did it seemingly willingly.
Jet didn’t know if that was latent guilt, some kind of cultural quirk, or what, but they acted delighted whenever she did or said anything that implied, directly or not, that she was okay with her current situation.
Her current situation as a slave.
So yeah, they were thrilled to hear that Jet’s biggest and bestest desire in this world was to win big for them in the Rings.
So thrilled, in fact, they offered to spare no expense on her support and training team, in the event she made it through her first trial match.
Of course, Jet had her own reasons for participating.
She was following orders, sure, doing it for the rebellion, for Richter… but she also had a new motivation now, ever since she learned of the first prize for a human, if they made it through ten consecutive matches with winning scores.
If Jet had ten wins in a row, she could bring any five humans to the Green Zone, and establish them in the human colony.
Not as slaves.
Her five humans could settle in the human colony––the area within the Green Zone walls that didn’t consist of slaves, but “worker” humans.
Sure, the difference was partly semantics, in terms of the work itself, but they wouldn’t belong to any one Nirreth, so they couldn’t be abused by one, either.
More importantly, if they agreed to come, Jet’s mother and brother would have clean food and water––as much as they needed, maybe for the rest of their lives. They’d be safe from cullers and radiation sickness and rabid dogs and disease.
Jet could visit them. She could have them in her life.
Jet knew they might not thank her for that, even with the improved chances for their survival. Hell, she likely wouldn’t thank them for that “favor” either, if their positions were reversed.
But Jet also knew, when and if fighting did break out in the colonies, between Richter’s and Laksri’s rebels and whoever else, the skags would bear the worst of it. The Nirreth would retaliate on the skag pits, in the event of any human revolt.
Jet could keep them from getting hurt at least, once the fighting started for real.
She could keep them next to her. She could protect them.
She could also get them out, maybe.
Her eyes drifted back to Laksri, who watched her with narrowed eyes.
Giving him a hard look in return, Jet saw that amusement flicker over his cat-like face, right before he averted his gaze.
She had no doubt he’d been in contact with Richter.
The two of them were partners, according to Anaze, the one night he’d told her anything at all about what was really going on. Laksri led the Nirreth faction of the rebels, who had their own reasons for wanting to overthrow the Royals.
Which meant they probably wanted this kid dead, too.
“Come HERE! Girl! Come HERE!” Ogli shouted, that time loud enough to make her jump.
When she turned, Jet saw Ogli’s eyes on Laksri.
Their expression looked close to angry. Apparently, he’d noticed them looking at one another after all, and he hadn’t liked it.
If Jet didn’t know better, she might have thought that disapproval aimed more at Laksri than at her.
Even as she thought it, Ogli smacked his palm loudly against the door of the stall.
“Stop looking at him! You are mine! Not his!”
Jet didn’t have to ask if he was speaking to her that time.
In the four weeks since she’d been assigned full-time guard duty over the young Nirreth, she’d become his newest and most favorite toy.
Sighing, she decided she’d probably ignored him long enough.
She took her weight off the barn wall and walked over to where he stood.
“What is it, Ogli?” she said, folding her arms.
“You will call me Prince Ogli! Prince!”
She blew her hair out of her eyes. “Yeah. Okay. What do you want?”
He pointed up at the high back of the Percheron. “Ride him!”
Jet let a hiss of air out through her teeth, more impatience than anger. “No.”
“I’m ordering you to ride him… slave!”
Jet narrowed her eyes at him. “You call me that again, and I’ll never, ever refer to you as ‘prince.’ Not even in the royal court.”
Ogli’s eyes narrowed at her, but she saw him thinking behind that childish attempt at a glare. After a few more seconds, he bit his thin, Nirrith lips with the sharp teeth of his incisors. Flicking the deep black tongue between his lips, he nodded.
His tail lashed behind him, but she saw some
of the fire dim in his eyes.
“Okay, girl. I won’t.” He motioned at the giant horse again. “Ride him! I insist!”
Jet shook her head again. “No, Prince Ogli. I will not.”
“Why not?” he said, clearly frustrated.
Jet let out another sigh.
“Because, Prince Ogli, I would bet you a few thousand royal credits that horse has never had a person… or a Nirreth… on its back. Not once in its genetically-engineered life. Therefore, if I attempt to sit on it, it’s going to revert to instinct and buck me off and stomp my arms and legs to jelly for the fun of it…”
At Ogli’s wide-eyed look, Jet hid a smile.
“Then you’ll need a new human to order around,” she added neutrally. “And to tell to do ridiculous things like ride horses that were obviously designed only for show.”
“You will ride him!”
“I will not. The very idea is ridiculous.”
“If you don’t, I’m telling my father!”
“Go ahead,” Jet retorted. “Tell him. Then ask him to explain why it’s a rather expensive diversion, when five minutes of your entertainment requires him to buy a new slave.”
“You’re just a human!” the boy snapped. “You’re nothing! There are hundreds of you!”
Jet felt her jaw harden. She didn’t look at Laksri that time.
“Hundreds of me, eh? Are you sure about that, Ogli?”
“Prince Ogli! Prince!”
Jet ignored him. “Hundreds of us, is that what you think, Prince? Hundreds and hundreds… just waiting in line to take my place if you kill me out of boredom?”
Jet’s eyes narrowed to slits.
She stepped closer to the boy, refolding her arms.
The young Nirreth stepped backwards, though he was nearly as tall as she was.
“Hundreds of teenaged girls who get culled by thugs like Richter, do you mean?” Jet said, her voice more angry.
“Or were you referring to the hundreds of adult men with shortened lifespans?” she added. “Who work as slave labor for the Nirreth, tending their gardens but getting shot if they get too hungry and try to eat any of their own crops? Or was it the skag children you meant, Prince? Half-stunted by radiation sickness and poisoned water, living underground and stealing by their fourth year just to help their families survive? Did you mean the hundreds of old people herded into the Nirreth collectives to be killed where they might help fertilize the soil for Nirreth crops? Or do you mean my own mother and brother, who are always a little sick, always a little hungry? Always coughing and fighting to keep down toxic food? Do you mean the mothers who are afraid to let their children out of their sight for even a second, between the culler ships and the risk of having them picked off by their own people to sell in your slave auctions?”
Seeing the wide-eyed look on the young prince’s face, Jet exhaled in anger, letting her voice turn more openly derisive.
“And… by the way… how many of these ‘hundreds’ can win for the Royal Crest and your father in the Rings, Ogli?” she said. “Maybe ask your father that before you’re so willing to see me get trampled under the feet of an overgrown beast, simply to prove that you can push me around whenever it suits you.”
Ogli frowned at her, but still looked a little nervous.
Staring back at the giant white horse, he seemed to be trying to think of a good argument.
Laksri, whose face normally remained impassive, gave her a warning look.
Even as Jet caught that, however, he did that other thing, a faint eye-blinking that Jet learned was a kind of Nirreth smile, albeit a subtle one.
It was also one that conveyed respect.
Some Nirreth, including Laksri himself, tried to mimic human smiles, too.
But, maybe because baring teeth usually meant aggression to Nirreth, even a challenge to a fight, it usually looked more frightening than reassuring. That same body-language-slash-communication difference caused a lot of ‘unfortunate misunderstandings’ in the early days of the invasion of Earth, Laksri told her during one of Jet’s history lessons.
Nirreth tended to convey humor and friendliness in different ways.
Unfortunately, there were so many of those ways, it was hard to keep track of all it. More than that, a wide number of gradations existed around everything from social rank, context, types of humor, respect, derision, playfulness, and on and on. She’d barely scratched the surface in terms of picking up nuances of different expressions of interest, curiosity, good and bad will, amusement, disapproval, condescension, anger or whatever else.
Since the Nirreth were her captors, she needed to learn that stuff, and fast.
Laksri watched her closely as she backed off her lecture of Ogli.
Clearly, he thought she was expressing too much to the kid.
Anaze already warned her to pretend total disinterest in politics around the Nirreth.
Since they already thought of Anaze as a revolutionary of sorts, he got to play the opposite role, ranting about things that Jet doubted even he believed––all so she could argue with him and seem moderate in comparison.
Jet found most of this acting exhausting.
She also found it somewhat pointless.
The Nirreth would be stupid to ever trust her, given what and who she was. She was a prisoner, and a slave, like Ogli said. They couldn’t possibly believe she’d ever truly be “on their side,” no matter how many luxuries they threw her way.
The funny thing was, Jet actually liked the kid Ogli okay.
Sure, he was spoiled absolutely rotten.
Like any kid given too much power, he went out of his way to test that power.
He also had a tendency to be overly reliant on others, mainly underlings of whatever kind, for his entertainment.
Still, oddly enough, Jet thought the kid was all right.
He wasn’t entirely devoid of compassion.
Nor was he totally comfortable with his own power over others. He spent a lot of time in nature, and even wrote a form of Nirreth poetry, in addition to his interest in drawing and other forms of art. He actually enjoyed his education, and spent hours in the various libraries of the palace, showing Jet pictures and drawings of animals from his species’ home planet.
His best friend was a fresh water otter named “Scamp” (which sounded something like Leetefs in the Nirreth tongue).
Ogli taught it to answer to its name and jump into his arms whenever it saw him, and gave the friendly otter the run of the palace’s dozens of canals and waterways, despite the complaints of his parents, members of the Royal Court, and the Nirreth servants.
Given that the otter enjoyed both stealing food and splashing unsuspecting Nirreth who got too close to the canals, Jet couldn’t help but liking Ogli for that, too.
Ogli, despite his attempts to bully her, also gave her almost unlimited freedom over the royal grounds.
He let her come and go around the different rooms of the palace whenever she wished, even if he usually insisted on accompanying her, which Jet suspected had a lot more to do with boredom and loneliness than any attempt to keep an eye on her.
Ogli also ordered his guards to take the lock off her door when she asked.
This was in spite of the fact that Jet technically remained what the Nirreth called ilezni, meaning “uninitiated,” and which normally meant they watched her like a hawk until she’d passed the most stringent of their security protocols.
Ogli’s parents indulged his whims for a number of reasons, Jet guessed.
In terms of why they allowed her so much freedom, she figured her age and sex probably had a lot to do with it.
Also, Jet had already shown in the demonstration that she was unlikely to harm the boy, or let harm come to him. The entire castle was under surveillance anyway, so they probably figured they had little to fear.
Jet suspected Laksri was part of the reason, too.
Having a full grown male Nirreth attached to Jet’s hip at every hour of the day
seemed to ease their fears on a lot of levels.
Laksri had been included as part of the deal Richter struck when he’d been sold Jet to the Nirreth Royals. Richter threw in Anaze as well, mostly for leverage, but because of his race and the fact that he’d passed all of their security protocols with flying colors, Laksri was assumed to be loyal.
Him being around her 24/7 definitely seemed to ease their minds around Jet.
Laksri, being a good two feet taller than her, and at least two of her in weight, was the Royals’ primary security system against her. They might not trust Richter, the human who sold her to them, but they also knew he made a lot of money off them, and likely would prefer to keep relations cordial.
Leaving Laksri at the palace served as that pledge of good will.
Ogli didn’t know any of this, of course.
Jet highly doubted he did, anyway.
No matter what his bloodline or future importance, he was just a kid. He was tall, since Nirreth bodies developed ahead of their minds and also ended up a good foot or two taller than those of humans, but Jet had adjusted to the illusion of Ogli’s height.
She’d learned that a nine-year-old Nirreth really wasn’t that much different than nine-year-old humans she’d known. Other than the fact that he’d never in his life gone hungry, Ogli acted a lot like the kids at the skag settlement.
In fact, if she had to compare him to anyone, he reminded her of the human kids she saw in the old human movies they sometimes showed at the skag settlement.
Bored and ultimately ignored by his royal parents, Ogli was a kid who only had the vaguest understanding of his place in the world. Other than the occasional royal audience and public event, he spent most of his days with servants.
His parents had a hyper-awareness of the kid’s security, especially given that the previous “oldest son” had been murdered before he came of age, but apart from that, his parents seemed to prefer to have someone else entertain him.
In some ways, Ogli was as much of a prisoner as Jet herself.
As far as Jet could tell, they never let him set so much as a toe outside the Royal Palace grounds.
Most of the time, Jet couldn’t decide if she felt more sorry for the kid or annoyed with him, given what he would likely become.
The Complete Alien Apocalypse Series (Parts I-IV Plus Bonus Novella): An Apocalyptic, Romantic, Science Fiction, Alien Invasion Adventure Page 20
