Yesterday's Spacemage

by Timothy Ellis

  The main cabin was like what I’d seen on teevee, inside airplanes. This one wasn’t very big, but there were a dozen seats. Two up front, and two sets of boot falls, seemed to indicate none of these seats were occupied. I sat in one of the middle rows, up against the wall, and waited. There was a belt on the seat, presumably for safety purposes, but I’d have to hope it wasn’t needed, since buckling it, or including it within my invisibility zone, would be a dead giveaway something was wrong. As it was, I was lucky the belt was hanging down on both sides of the seat, and I very carefully made sure it remained visible.

  Shouts echoed in through the airlock, and I assumed one of them had found the three bodies. I waited, not moving, concentrating on breathing without noise.

  Eventually, both of them arrived back at the airlock, compared notes, especially wondering why three bodies instead of two or four, although they provided their own scenario for how they died, which didn’t include someone else being involved.

  But then they speculated on why the ship was spotlessly clean, and I had to suppress a shiver. I'd goofed, and almost given myself away. One of them speculated about the cleaning bots resetting to default settings once there was no actual person to give them orders, and they'd cleaned up properly once the bodies were stored. It sounded feasible to me, and all I could do was hope it made sense to anyone else they told.

  One of them came inside, walked into the front section without even a glance around, and after he settled into his seat, the airlock closed, and the engines came on. I could see nothing except the cabin I was in, and all I could do was wait.

  I didn’t need to wait very long. Conversation came from up front, which I assumed was docking related, sounding as it did, similar to teevee plane landing pilot stuff. Obviously our destination was the station. Similar clunking noises to before, only much louder this time, and the airlock opened again, the pilot swept through and out, and I sat there wondering how long I should wait before trying to leave.

  What made me move, was the thought the ship might be in constant use, and people needing the seats might come in at any moment. I rose soundlessly, gripped one strap of the backpack with my left hand, and stepped as quietly as I could to the airlock.

  Outside, I could see no-one, but a lot of noise was coming from somewhere. The airlock opened into a long tube, so I carefully walked along it. At the end, I found another open airlock, again with no-one around. This one opened into a fairly standard looking passageway, the sort you’d find in almost any building. It was wide enough for six people to walk side by side without touching each other in the process. The walls seemed to be covered in advertising, although I had little understanding of what.

  As I walked along, more tubes could be seen, so I assumed I was in a small ship docking area, and each one fed into this passageway, which presumably led into the station proper. I was lucky no-one else appeared from any of them, and no-one was coming towards either.

  It took five minutes' walk to reach the end. There I found people, of the type I really didn’t want to be seen by. They were large, obviously armed, and just as obviously guarding the entrance to the passageway.

  There was enough noise coming through, I no longer needed to worry about being heard, as long as I didn’t hit anything which made noise. The doors were open, fortunately, and I simply walked straight through. Neither of the gorillas on guard so much as glanced my way. It was the first real confirmation my invisibility was actually working.

  I found myself in yet another passageway, this time with people going both ways along it, and followed it, carefully stepping around people, until I found myself looking out into a large open area, several levels below. The noise of many thousands of people all seemingly bellowing at once, in a number of different languages, assaulted my ears. I’d been to shopping centers before, some of them really big, but this was as if every single shopping area in the city I’d been living in, had been squashed up together in one place. I had no real understanding of how big it was, or even how to measure it. It was huge. It’s the only word which fits.

  The most obvious thing was once I was down there, staying invisible was going to be impossible. I'd be bumped, stepped on, or run over before I’d taken my second step. I waited there, letting people come and go behind me, studying as much as I could see. I set part of my focusing intent on language translation, and let what I could hear wash over me, filtering out all the raucous music trying to drown the voices out. Some of it was the language the two slavers had spoken. Several variations of it became apparent, but several others were completely different. I waited until most of what I heard could be understood, and it became apparent the area below me was mostly about food.

  Which was when my stomach growled, and someone cast a glance in my direction. Sufficiently off beat to look, but not enough to stop and investigate. I paid more attention to the movement around me.

  There was a large plant off to one side, so I moved over to it. With some deft timing, I dropped the invisibility as I walked around the plant, hidden by it so those who might see me, didn’t see the shift, but anyone looking from below, simply saw me step up to the rail as if looking for something. I made an effort to appear to be looking, finding, and stepped back into the passageway, and followed several people until I found steps leading down.

  At the bottom of the stairs, I stopped and watched people going past, paying attention to their dress. The last thing I needed was to stand out, but while different, I found what I was wearing to be neutral enough I shouldn’t appear to be too different. Or not different enough to be worthy of serious attention. A lot of people carried bags of all sorts, including some worn on the back like mine, and while it appeared to be safe, I tightened my grip on the strap, just to be sure no-one could pull it off me suddenly.

  My first challenge was food. I wandered around looking at the offerings, which varied from delightfully smelling, to absolutely disgusting. People ate as they walked, or sat in general areas. All much the same as the shopping centers I was used to.

  What I didn’t have though, was money to buy food with. I sat at a table nearby a number of food vendors, pulled a bottle of water out of my backpack, and sat there sipping it. I concentrated on observing transactions, trying to look like I was deciding on what to purchase to eat.

  What I was doing though, was looking for a way of stealing money, where no-one would know it was gone. At least until they tried to use it next time. The first thing I noticed was no-one was using any kind of electronic currency. Definitely a good break for me. Stealing something which usually required some form of identification, was easy, but usually pointless. But paper money was just as easy to steal, for me anyway, and immediately usable.

  I spotted a large man spending money, and watched him shove the unused notes into a back pocket. I concentrated on his pocket as he walked away, and the notes moved from his pocket to mine. Over the next fifteen minutes, I repeated this a dozen times, moving wallets, billfolds, and cash rolls, to my backpack.

  Since I’d been pushing my luck about someone discovering immediately their money had vanished, and making a noise about it, I decide to move. I concentrated my intent on the most common language I’d been hearing people use, and set it to default what I spoke.

  First I went up to one of the vendors, pulled the notes from my pocket, passed over one with a number bigger than the food cost, and received a wrapped something, which looked like meat inside some sort of bread. I took back a small amount of change, and stepped away, ripping off the top of the wrapping like I’d seen others doing, and began walking away. The food was tasty, and I stopped at another set of tables to sit and finish it.

  The next requirement was relieving myself, and needing a little privacy. I continued on, until I found the first set of convenience rooms. A few seconds to determine men's from women's, and I sought a stall where I could be unobserved for a short time. After using the facilities, I dug my ill-gotten gains out of my backpack, hid some of the larger notes i
n my shoes, and made up a bill fold with the rest. The wallets I'd have to dump. Using my magic sight, I cast around the room on the other side of the door for a bin, and transferred what I didn’t want into it.

  So far so good. I exited the cubicle, washed my hands, took a grip on the backpack again, and walked out.

  And walked straight into someone passing just outside the door, and bounced back into the door closing behind me.

  When I had my balance again, I saw four long lines of people going past.

  They were chained together.

  For a moment, all I could think of was there but for the grace, went I.

  The last one on the line next to me, turned to look at me as she went past.

  She was amazingly beautiful, but clad in rags, and like the rest, shackled hand and foot, with some sort of collar around her neck.

  Her eyes raked mine, as if begging me to help her.

  And then she was gone.

  Eight

  Okay, I admit it.

  I turned immediately to follow her. Yes. My head had turned to follow a pretty face, a damsel in distress, someone apparently needing rescuing.

  Stupid. Yes. Very. I did it anyway, and there was no single thought on the subject at all. By the time my brain caught up with my feet, I was at the very least committed to finding out more about her, if I could.

  I wasn’t totally stupid about it. I followed a fair way behind. I bought food twice more, and did some serious magical shoplifting. There were a range of items most people were carrying, and I slowly added them to my backpack, as conditions allowed. I only took something where there were so many on show, one going missing would never be noticed, without doing a full count first.

  One of the last was a mid-level pad, which seemed to be the local equivalent of computer. Well away from the store it came from, it took a bit of blind de-packaging inside my backpack, before the pad could be pulled out. I turned it on using the only obvious button, and it started asking for information. I gave it what I could, and ignored the rest. It smoothly connected to the station net, and began downloading updates.

  I slid it into a pocket, and let it update itself as I continued to follow the shackled lines. After a while, it appeared the prisoners were being displayed around the station, rather than going anywhere in particular. So while trailing behind them, I had a good introduction to many of the areas. We'd left food behind some time ago, and now we left electronics behind as well. I made note of clothing stores worth visiting at some later time.

  At one point the pad buzzed, and I pulled it out. The updates were complete, and a full map of the station was showing, with the level I was on highlighted. I scrolled it around, since not even a single level could display all at once, and my eyes stopped on one large area labelled 'Slave Auctions'.

  So now I knew where we'd end up. Given how long it'd taken to get this far, I made an estimate of how long it would still take to get there, and how long it would take me, taking what I thought was a short cut. This gave me some time for clothes shopping.

  I turned, and headed back the way I'd come, stopping at the nearest of the noted stores, and going in. When I came out a half hour later, I was wearing new clothes in current, if plain, fashion. I’d taken the opportunity while changing to move items to my person, instead of in my backpack. The most noticeable was the pouch for the pad, normally worn in either a hip pouch off a belt, or a thigh pouch attached to a gun holster. As I didn’t have a gun, and didn’t want a gun, I’d gone for the hip belt option.

  The backpack was now bigger, as I'd needed extra space for my original clothes, which I decided to keep. It was also somewhat heavier now, so I added a no-weight command to the enlargement intent. After I managed to pull the pack down from the ceiling, I modified it to be neutral weight instead. I also changed its colour slightly, to also be more neutral here.

  While hunting the racks, I’d made a pass through women's wear, and magically copied a generic loose fitting dress, of about the size I thought she could wear. She was in rags, and I did this on the off chance she'd need something better in a hurry. I was guessing, but days in the laundry doing everyone's as punishment, meant I did have an appreciation for dress sizes. It was sitting on top of the backpack now, so it could be pulled out rapidly if need be.

  Satisfied with my own change in appearance, I hurried through my shortcut, taking every opportunity to relieve people of their excess cash without taking any risks, and arrived at the entrance to the slave auctions area, nicely in time for the slave strings to pass me by again.

  This time I paid attention to the shackles, and the collars, which I found to be much more interesting and important. Each collar enclosed the neck tightly, with a large bulge on the front. I'd need to find out what they were really for, before I tried to do anything with one.

  The girl made eye contact with me again as she went past, and I thought I saw recognition on her face. On the other hand though, she was looking at everyone, desperately looking for someone to save her. Or at least, that’s what I thought she was doing.

  Oh. And she wasn’t a girl really. With more time to check her out, she seemed to be a number of years older than I was, which made her a woman, not a girl. It also highlighted the fact I was a boy, and not a man. Which also highlighted how desperate she obviously was. And how stupid I was being.

  I followed the strings along, and at long last, they disappeared into a closed off area, behind a stage. The lights for the stage came on, and a time was displayed for when the auction would begin. I took a seat, and waited, noting the seating area was rapidly filling up.

  While I waited, I checked out the station's descriptions of the auction process. Very flashy ads showed me how they were conducted. I went looking for any reference to the collars, and found they had two purposes. The lower setting on the control wand the purchaser received, jolted the wearer with enough of a shock to drop them. It was usually used as a punishment. The second level had options, which determined how far away the collar could get, before it blew the head off the wearer.

  Charming. It explained why I’d only seen two expressions on the shackled. Resignation, and desperation. I made a mental note if ever threatened with one of those collars, I would do everything I could to avoid whoever tried to put one on me. Up to and including killing them.

  It was something of a self-revelation to find I would be prepared to kill. And then I wondered why, when soldiers and battle mages were expected to kill, and I'd wanted to be a battle mage. Two years in a non-violent place had obviously changed the way I looked at things. But then, I had already killed, so where had this surprise come from?

  I had defended myself, and I'd over done it. So it was different, since I hadn't intended to kill. But now I realized if they came for me, I’d need to kill. And killing here would drop me in deep shit, given at best, the local police were themselves a form of pirate. There would be no help from any quarter, and any help offered would most likely have ulterior motives attached, and thus be suspect.

  I did have one advantage though. I’d seen no sign of any form of magic here, which hopefully meant battle magic would surprise them. I wished I knew some. I'd taken on three mages by myself and survived, two armed thugs and survived, but nothing like serious numbers of hostiles all at once.

  I suddenly wondered what the hell I thought I was doing.

  Save the girl, obviously. But then what? I needed a plan. Buying her would obviously be the easiest way. But for how much? I looked for the day's auction lots, and found the list. Her face was the last one, and my heart sank at what the expected opening bid should be. I focused on my backpack, and asked it for a total of how much money was in it.

  It turned out I’d been more successful than I thought, and could indeed open the bidding, and take it a short distance. It was a lot of money though. The good thing was, all payments had to be made in cash. The bad was, you needed to have your bid's worth of cash on you, and if after purchase it was found you didn’t have enoug
h, you were in serious trouble, and likely to be the next item on offer after they re-auctioned your purchase.

  I needed to double check with my eyes, so I sought out the nearest facilities, and shut myself in a cubicle again. I sorted the notes from highest to lowest, and counted them three times to be sure of the exact total.

  I rechecked on what the opening bid was expected to be, in case there was an expected successful bid amount listed, but there wasn’t. I had enough to bid a couple of times, depending on how fast the bidding went up. The main problem I saw was how beautiful she looked, even in rags, which would drive her price up. Hopefully her lack of resignation would be seen as a sign of a troublemaker, and keep her price down.

  And then I saw the list of attributes under each entry, showing skills and reasons to bid higher.

  She was a pilot!

  Nine

  There is always a reason for why we do things, even if we're clueless about it. Sometimes we find out, sometimes we don’t.

  A pretty girl was something I desired, but didn’t actually need, and wasn’t really any use here and now.

  But a pilot on the other hand, would get me off this station, and back to somewhere more civilized. Maybe even back home.

  By the time I returned to the auction area, the seats were all taken, and a good sized crowd had gathered around them. I managed to worm my way through to the back of the seats, where I would be able to be seen by the auctioneer.

  With a fanfare, the man himself appeared, and made a show of introducing himself. He played to the crowd, obviously knowing a lot of the bidders personally.

  Lot one was a man, and he was paraded around for all to see, what remained of his shirt coming off when the bidding began to flag. I paid little attention.

  I was focusing my magic sight on the collar. I studied it from the outside all around, and when I felt sure I had the whole shape in my mind properly, I looked inside. The detonator was obviously in the front section, and the explosive went all the way around. For what it could do, there wasn’t all that much of it, but obviously it was enough.