by M. D. Cooper
“I’m going to get us out of here, Ju,” Katrina whispered hoarsely. “And when I do, I’m going to make Jace pay for what he’s done to you.”
Juasa snorted, then coughed and moaned. “Oh…ow. Kat, I don’t need vengeance, I just need a week—maybe a month—in a spa.”
“You and me both. Don’t worry; when we get to the Voyager, the medbay will have us fixed up in no time. We’ll be hale and whole before you know it.”
“How are we going to find it?” Juasa asked, her voice carrying a note of disbelieving desperation.
“I expect they’ll find us,” Katrina replied. “However, I don’t plan to be in this condition when they do. We just need to get these collars off. Then Jace dies, and we get out of here. Not necessarily in that order.”
“But how will you do that?” Juasa asked.
Katrina gritted her teeth and drew in a slow breath. It even hurt to breathe enough to talk. The expansion of her chest and her breasts against the rough stone…she wasn’t sure if the nights were worse than the days.
“Soon they’ll send for me, and we’ll start negotiations…or some new torture. I just have to keep my eyes peeled for the right opportunity.”
“What if it never happens?” Juasa asked, a soft sob escaping her lips.
“Shhhh, it’ll be OK, I promise,” Katrina replied. “It’ll come; Jace isn’t perfect or omniscient. He has enemies, and he’ll screw up sooner or later. For now, you sleep as best you can. We need our strength.”
Juasa gave a slight nod, and Katrina stroked her chin for a few minutes, humming a tune she remembered from her childhood.
The stars were merciful, and before long, she heard Juasa’s breathing fall into the slow rhythm of sleep.
Now Katrina just had to follow suit. Dreams were her only reprieve; visions of joy, where she hunted Jace down and killed him for what he’d done.
THE FIELDS OF PERSIA
STELLAR DATE: 12.31.8511 (Adjusted Gregorian)
LOCATION: Jace’s estate
REGION: World of Persia, unknown system
Katrina wiped the rivulets of sweat from her brow, counting the minutes until the water bearer came back around. It would be at least ten more, by her reckoning—unless he was late, which he often was.
She gazed across the rows of sithri plants and their bright blue flowers, taking in the field and the other workers, her gaze finally settling on Juasa, seven rows over.
It hurt Katrina just to see the young woman out here, bent over the flowers, extracting pollen and storing it in the vials they all carried.
It was easy to pick Juasa out from the other workers. Like Katrina, she was naked, her skin bright red, blistered, and peeling from the long hours in the hot sun; dark slashes of scabbed skin from the overseer’s whips standing out on her back.
The other workers were indentured servants—labor that was cheaper than machines, though also less efficient. Katrina and Juasa, however, were slaves, their status denoted by the collars they wore; collars that did double duty, restricting the use of their internal tech, nano, and cutting them off from the Link.
A whip cracked above Katrina’s head, and Liam, the massive field boss, hollered at her. “Head down! Stay on task!”
Katrina turned back toward the plant in front of her and used her tiny scoop to scrape pollen off the flower’s stamen and into the vial.
Two trains of thought warred in her mind.
The first was that she couldn’t wait to kill Liam. His time was coming. She just needed to figure out how to get the collar off and then to get Juasa to safety. Once she had that settled, the man would die, not long before Jace.
The other thought running through her mind was of the thousand ways the sithri flower’s pollen could be harvested more efficiently than using humans with small scrapers and vials.
Katrina was certain that Jace used people for the work because they were plentiful on Persia—the planet they were on—and because he enjoyed making humans serve him.
Yet another thing that reminded her all too well of Sirius. The more she learned about the future, the more she felt it only contained the worst aspects of the past. Like nothing good had gone forward, only the most…wrong…behaviors possible.
She saw movement out of the corner of her eye and turned her head ever so slightly to watch a small shuttle take off from the far side of Jace’s castle. That was the third one this day. Two had appeared to stay on terrestrial vectors, but this one was rising straight up into space.
A castle, Katrina shook her head at the thought. Jace had gone all out, building a monstrous stone structure reminiscent of ancient human fortresses. It had towers and parapets, and a high wall; even a moat and a drawbridge.
Katrina had not yet determined the full scope of Jace’s holdings on Persia, or what sort of position he held in the local hierarchy. Whatever the scope of his influence, it was enough for him to create a little fiefdom, complete with plebes to do his bidding.
It was pathetic, but it certainly fit the bill for a boorish man like Jace.
Even though she detested him, Katrina knew a keen intellect hid behind the bearded, cliff-browed visage. Jace could not possess a feared fleet, nor feel secure enough to live at the bottom of a planetary gravity well, without a significant measure of success.
The bastard is good at what he does.
In the five days since Katrina woke in the cell with Juasa, Jace had not summoned her once. It was obvious that he was letting her stew in her juices—or bake in the sun, as it were.
At first, it had seemed like uninspired torture. Katrina had expected rape, mind bending sims, dissection, something truly terrible. But the subtlety of the fields was undeniable. It would take weeks to wear her down, but Katrina could already feel it happening.
Juasa was not so hardy. The poor woman had never spent any appreciable time planetside in her life; she’d never spent a day in full sunlight, or felt her lips dry out, crack, and bleed in the hot air, let alone the searing fire of the lash, or the skin-splitting blows of a cane.
Jace did not come out to watch the pair of women suffer in the fields, but Anna made sure to visit them several times a day. She seemed to harbor a lingering hatred for Juasa, and would beat her with whatever was nearby. Twice Katrina had rushed Anna, determined to kill the woman with her bare hands, but the collar around her neck had dropped her both times before she made it halfway.
And then Liam had beaten her for crushing one of the plants.
Though Katrina was unable to directly control her body’s nanotech—the collar saw to that—her biology was far superior to a normal human’s, and it was plain to see that she was healing faster than expected.
Anna had noticed, and over the past day, she had directed more of her ire toward Katrina—which suited her just fine.
Katrina moved to the next plant, thinking a variety of very ungrateful things about Anna, but that just reminded her that all of this was her fault. Juasa’s misery, whatever had happened to the crew of the Havermere—it was all her fault. If she hadn’t shown up in their lives, they’d be going about their business. Plying the black and fixing ships.
No. It’s Anna’s fault, Katrina thought as she clenched her jaw and moved to the next plant. If she hadn’t gotten greedy, none of this would have happened. No one would have died, everyone would have been rich, and Troy and I would be long gone, searching for Tanis—hopefully with Juasa along for the ride.
She held that thought firmly in her mind. Anna would pay—pay dearly—for what she’d done. Once Katrina had the lay of the land—and worked out how to get the damn collar off—she would kill Anna, Jace, and whoever else got in her way.
As if Katrina’s foul thoughts had summoned the woman, a car pulled up, hovering above the packed path at the edge of the field.
Katrina tilted her head enough to see Anna step out and approach Liam. She was wearing a blue skinsuit that seemed to emit a nimbus glow, with pink and purple hues tracing patterns across her body.
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It was a sign of Anna’s deepest desire. She wanted to be an aristocrat, one of the upper crust. Out here, on Jace’s estate, she could be anything, and she chose to be the one thing she never could be back at Bollam’s World.
“Lobster one!” Liam cried out. “Get your pus-dripping ass over here. Jace wants to see you.”
Liam had never once called the prisoners by name, though he did have a variety of creative epithets that he used to address them. He was, however, consistent in their numbering. Katrina was 1, and Juasa was 2.
Katrina rose and saw that Juasa was peering at her with worry writ large on her face. Katrina nodded slowly, and held up a reassuring hand.
She began to walk across the field. Her bones ached from crouching, and her muscles were tight, feeling like rubber bands stretched too far. Welts from the beatings split open as she moved, and Katrina could feel fresh rivulets of pus run down her body.
A few of the field workers glanced at her as she walked by. Today no one took a second look.
On the first day, before the burns set in, a group of the field workers had attempted to have their way with Katrina and Juasa during one of the rest periods.
Katrina had fought back, and knocked two unconscious before the rest fled. Her reward was a beating from Liam for lowering the field’s production output.
She just hoped that now, on their third day out here, Juasa’s degraded condition would make her a less savory target. It was a slim hope, as was the one that Jace would send her back to the fields before long. Katrina didn’t like letting Juasa out of her sight.
Still, she held herself erect and proud. There was no way that she was going to let them think their actions had cowed her in any way.
Katrina had received worse at the hands of her own father.
As she reached the edge of the field, Anna’s lips curled into a sneer. “Ah, Verisa, still so proud.”
Katrina didn’t reply. No good would come from responding to the woman’s baiting. Though the continued use of her alternate persona’s name, Verisa, told Katrina that the Havermere had not yet arrived. Or if it had, they’d not broken Sam, the AI.
Liam gave a curt nod, his eyes traveling up and down Katrina’s body—not lasciviously, more like he was examining livestock. “She’s a tough bitch, that’s for sure. Once she learns her place, she’ll be a good worker.”
Anna reached out and pinched the blistered skin on Katrina’s arm, twisting the flesh viciously. “Is that what you want? To be a good worker?”
Katrina sucked in a quick breath and clenched her teeth, but she didn’t respond to the woman’s taunts. Addressing Anna only emboldened her. Silence, however, confounded her.
A moment later, Anna released her hold on Katrina’s skin and shook her head. “Dumb bitch. You’re going to wish you had talked to me. Jace won’t be nearly as forgiving.”
Liam handed Katrina a towel. It was coarse and scratchy—at least it felt that way to her.
“Sit on this. Don’t need your ooze all over the seats.”
Katrina wrapped the towel around her shoulders, glad to have her skin out of the unrelenting sun—though anything touching it hurt just as much. She also did not relish the thought of the pain that removing the towel would cause, its fibers sticking in her wounds.
Liam then opened the rear door on the car, and Katrina climbed in, sparing a glance for Juasa, who was staring at her with wide eyes.
Katrina managed a small smile before the door slammed shut. One of the massive guards was in the seat beside her. He held a handgun in his left hand, and Katrina began to catalogue the ways she could pull it from his grasp and blow his brains out with it.
Anna got in the front seat and made a snarky remark that Katrina ignored. The Havermere’s former first mate continued to talk as the car took off, driving them down the packed gravel road that ran through the fields—most filled with workers harvesting sithri pollen—toward the castle several kilometers away.
Katrina counted the field bosses watching their workers, saw how many carried weapons, who held theirs like they knew how to use them, which ones also carried clubs or whips.
She noted the watchtowers: how many were occupied, which seemed to be vacant. She saw a transport approach, filled with new guards fresh for their shift—something that never happened with Katrina’s team. Liam and his pair of assistants never traded off with other guards.
All the while, Anna kept talking; mostly threatening Katrina, but sometimes slipping into an almost conversational tone.
“You know what they say, Verisa, the female of the species is the most deadly. That’s true for Jace. His wife is a cold fish, calculating, determined, grasping. I’ll warrant she’s the one that is pushing him to start getting answers from you so soon. If it were up to me, I’d let you bake in the sun till the cancer set in.”
Katrina doubted that very much. Anna was the epitome of impatience, even though she liked to pretend otherwise. This was not the first time she’d heard mention of Jace’s wife, though. Katrina’s impression was that the woman ruled the roost with an iron fist. Once or twice, the guards had joked about how Jace would be heading back out into space before long. He never lasted more than a few weeks planetside before having somewhere else he needed to be.
Anna let several other tidbits drop. She mentioned a raid ship coming back, and an important meeting at the capital, and another on an orbiting station named Farsa. That was particularly interesting—it hinted at a power structure that went higher than Jace on the planet, and in space above.
They reached the castle a minute after that utterance, passing beneath the portcullis and into the courtyard. The car stopped next to the steps that led up to the main entrance.
Katrina had never seen this entrance to the castle. She and Juasa had been brought in and out of a postern gate each dawn and dusk; their only exposure to the stone fortress being the dank tunnels that led to and from her and Juasa’s cell.
“Out,” the guard next to her said, and Katrina complied, opening the door and stepping out onto the hot stone of the courtyard.
Shit…never thought I’d appreciate crouching in the dirt around the plants this much.
“C’mon, Red, let’s move,” Anna said and grabbed Katrina’s shoulder.
Katrina sucked in a hissing breath from the pain, and Anna’s lips formed a wicked smile.
“Ah, finally. I was beginning to wonder if you could make sounds anymore.”
Katrina leaned toward Anna and hissed again before whispering in the woman’s ear, “When I kill you, I promise not to make a peep.”
Anna’s head whipped around, and Katrina had the satisfaction of seeing a fleeting expression of fear on the pompous bitch’s face. It was gone a moment later, replaced by a haughty smile. “Keep chirping, little bird. You’ll be singing Jace’s tune before long.”
Katrina only shrugged, and Anna turned in disgust, walking up the stairs with a petulant stamp to her feet as she went.
“Move,” the guard said from behind Katrina, and she followed the glowing blue woman up the steps and through the doors.
The interior of the castle was far more ornate than Katrina had expected. Every bit as elegant within as it was brooding from without. Deep carpets ran down the corridors, bright lights hung from golden ropes, and no small number of songbirds fluttered about on perches overhead.
Given the level of tech Jace possessed, Katrina wondered what they did about bird shit. The poor animals must have been modified or conditioned not to do it while in the corridor.
Not that any level of animal cruelty should have been a surprise.
The castle’s air was cool. At first, the slight breeze within felt soothing on Katrina’s skin, but before long, she felt a chill set in. She pulled the towel tight around her shoulders, feeling its fibers already settling within the forming scabs on her back.
Deep breaths, Katrina, she told herself. This is all calculated; a part of how they are working to break you. You’re smarter th
an them. You’ll come out on top.
Anna had finally stopped speaking—a small mercy—and she led Katrina and the looming guard through the long passageways of the castle in silence. Before long, they came to a double door, in front of which stood a pair of guards. They gave Anna and Katrina a disparaging look, but stepped aside and opened the doors.
Katrina followed Anna inside and stopped just past the threshold, surveying the room. The walls were sheathed in marble, and there was no carpeting; just a pale blue stone that appeared to glow—or was reflecting the light coming off Anna. A large desk dominated the far end of the room, situated before tall windows that looked out over a walled garden. Before the desk, a grouping of uncomfortable-looking chairs sat empty—one with a plastic sheet draped over it.
Jace sat at the desk, his bearded visage dark as he peered at something hovering over the desk on a holodisplay. With a shake of his head, he waved it away and rose, a grim smile on his lips.
“Ah, Verisa, you look like shit. I trust your little fuck toy is in even worse shape?”
Katrina didn’t reply, though she knew the cold look in her eyes was all the answer Jace needed.
“You should see her,” Anna said with a wicked grin. “She’s like one big welt, oozing pus.”
Katrina suppressed a laugh. Anna was like a dog trying to please its master, barking and bouncing at Jace’s feet, when all he wanted was for her to shut up.
“Sit,” Jace said to Katrina. “I’ll have some refreshments brought in.”
Though she didn’t want to do his bidding, Katrina felt nauseous from the walk and knew that her prolonged exposure in the field was beginning to give her sun poisoning. A seat would be a welcome reprieve.
She settled gently into the plastic covered chair. “Thanks for making sure I don’t get stuck to your upholstery.”
Jace shrugged. “The least I can do. Besides, Malorie hates it when I get blood and guts on the furniture. You know what they say: ‘happy wife, happy life’.”
