Jupiter's Glory Book 3: The Obsidian Slavers

by Adam Carter

  Finally, Hawthorn said, “I reckon this is far enough. Keep an eye out, Cass.”

  “On it.”

  Hawthorn hurried forward, breaking into a run once he was just a few paces from Rayne. She turned at the sound of his feet, stared in shock, but had time to do little else. Hawthorn enveloped her with his arms, pressed his hand to her mouth and shouldered the door in front of her all in the same motion. They tumbled through into a storeroom and a quick survey showed him there was no one else around, just a lot of cleaning equipment.

  Cassiel closed the door behind them and switched on the light.

  “Now,” Hawthorn said to the squirming figure, “I’m going to release you and you’re not going to scream, all right?”

  “Because if you do,” Cassiel said, drawing her sword, “I’ll give you something to really scream about.”

  “Would you put that away?”

  “Sorry.”

  “Carla,” Hawthorn said, “we’re not here to hurt you. We just need to find Iris. You know me, you spent time with me. You know I won’t hurt you. But Iris and I are lovers so I’m doing all this in an underhanded way so I can make sure she’s all right.”

  He could feel Rayne nod beneath his hand and decided to release her. He noted Cassiel tensed, but as long as she did not attack things would be fine.

  Rayne took a few steps away from him, rubbing her sore throat. Her back was to the shelves and she eyed them both warily. “Who are you people really?” she asked.

  “No one you should worry about,” Hawthorn said.

  “Why is that girl dressed like that?”

  “I’m a ninja.”

  “She’s not a ninja. She’s … It doesn’t matter what she is. Carla, where’s Iris? What have you done with her?”

  “I haven’t done anything with her. Captain put her with Haskell. She looks after the slaves, so she knows a thing or two about keeping people in line. Now, who are you?”

  She had been open with him and Hawthorn felt bad for not being able to tell her the truth. “I think it’s best we just take Iris and get out of your hair.”

  “What?” Cassiel asked. “I thought you wanted to free all the slaves? I mean, I don’t care because I don’t see a problem with them being here, but after that speech you and Iris gave back at the ship, I …”

  “Thanks, Cass.”

  Rayne looked from one to the other, slowly weighing up what she was hearing. “You’re some of those, right. We get them from time to time. People who want to disband slavery, restore the human rights of the downtrodden.”

  “You can’t honestly believe slavery is a good idea, Carla.”

  “You’ve known me two minutes, Heathcliff, you can’t possibly think you know anything about me.”

  “Heathcliff?” Cassiel asked. “Gordy, why is she calling you Heathcliff?”

  “Gordy,” Rayne said. “At least someone’s being honest for once. I assume that’s short for Gordon?”

  “Yes, my name’s Gordon. Gordon, Cass, Iris.”

  “And Wyatt Harman.”

  Hawthorn winced. “That’s what started this whole mess.”

  “A whole posse’s come to liberate the slaves. Well, maybe the slaves don’t want to be liberated. You ever think of that?”

  “Oh, he thought of it,” Cassiel said. “He just doesn’t care.”

  “I care,” Hawthorn shot back. “It’s why I’m doing this. Slavery can never be right, I don’t care what your society says, Cass, and I don’t care how much profit you make from this, Carla.”

  “Me? I don’t make any profit.”

  “The captain, then. Let me talk to the slaves. Let me hear from their own lips that they’re happy to be sold off like cattle.”

  “Happy? No one’s happy, Gordon. Content, maybe, but happiness just isn’t something anyone ever achieves. Working on the Obsidian? It has its ups and downs. I get responsibility, I get to travel. Whenever we land in port I get some free time to myself. I paint, did you know that? I look out the window and paint landscapes.”

  “Bully for you. What does this have to do with anything?”

  “I’m saying I don’t have a terrible life.”

  “And if I hear a slave tell me that I might just leave without freeing them all.”

  “You idiot,” Rayne raged. “I am a slave.”

  Hawthorn stared, open-mouthed. “You? But … But you’re a part of the command crew.”

  “Slavery isn’t seen as a bad thing in Malkavia. We’re used for a lot of things, more than you could imagine. My parents were killed in a car crash when I was four. I didn’t have any other family so I was given to the government. Other societies have foster homes and orphanages, but in Malkavia we make sure every citizen is of some use for the greater good. The government schooled me and at the same time taught me how to multi-task on a command deck. By the time I was thirteen I could run a ship this size by myself, so I was taken out of school and sold to a freighter captain. I’ve exchanged hands several times since then. My first captain filed for bankruptcy, which meant he had to get rid of all assets – and I was an asset. I was bought cheaply in a job lot at auction by a steel importer, but she didn’t really want me. She wanted the rest of the stuff in the lot. I stayed with her for about two months before I was bought by someone else. Then someone else, and someone else. I’ve been with Captain Gardener now for eight months, and they’ve been the most content months I’ve ever spent. Happy? I don’t know what happiness is, Gordon, but I’m certainly not complaining. I have a good life, better than other people who aren’t slaves. For one thing, there are laws regarding how I have to be treated. And Captain Gardener’s a good man.”

  Hawthorn was glad she had said so much, because he still felt speechless. He looked her up and down slowly. “But you … you can’t be a slave.”

  “Tough, because I am.”

  “It was such a blunt statement that Hawthorn could again say nothing at all.

  “Wow,” Cassiel said instead. “How much are you worth, Carla? Just out of interest.”

  “That’s none of your business.”

  “Do you get paid? Time off for holidays? I’m interested.”

  “I don’t care.” Rayne folded her arms angrily and glowered at Hawthorn. “You’re not rescuing all the slaves on this ship because if you rescued all of us you’d have to take me, too. Have you given any thought to how you’re going to look after me? Where I’m going to sleep, what I’m going to eat, what I’m going to do to keep myself occupied?”

  “I …”

  “No, of course not. You’re just like every other slave liberator that makes the news. You want to help, you want to wade in and do the right thing, but you have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  Rayne opened her mouth to respond, but closed it when she realised what he had said. “Good,” she said, still angry. “That’s a start. Now, you want to see Iris, I’ll take you to Iris. But first we go see the captain.”

  “Sorry, but I still don’t trust this captain of yours.”

  “Then you’re an idiot.”

  “Maybe, but I’m an idiot in love.”

  His words brought the tug of a smile to Rayne’s lips and even her eyes softened a little. “What if I insisted we go see the captain?”

  “I’d insist we go see Iris. And there are two of us. And one of us is a ninja.”

  “What would you do to force me?”

  “Nothing. I wouldn’t force you to do anything.”

  “In that case, I’ll take you to see Iris. But after that we’re going to pay the captain a visit so we can sort out all this nonsense. Once you see how well we treat our slaves here, we can part on friendly terms.”

  “Maybe once I see how well you’ve treated Iris.”

  “Iris? Why would we treat Iris badly? She’s fine, I promise you.”

  “Then lead the way.”

  Cassiel opened the door and Rayne stepped out into the corridor. Hawthorn was findin
g it difficult not to trust her, for she exuded an air of innocence he knew he always fell for. He also believed her story, yet to believe her meant she was loyal to her captain, her master.

  “Be ready,” Hawthorn said to Cassiel as he passed her. “Just in case.”

  Cassiel’s only answer was to tighten her grip on her sheathed sword. Hawthorn was very much hoping she would not have to use it. It all depended on how well they had treated Arowana.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Her body was wracked with pain and exhaustion, yet Arowana had no intention of hanging by her chains while she awaited Haskell’s return. She would never be able to forget the torments the woman had put her through, just as she would never forget how much Haskell had delighted in her actions; but it would all resume if Arowana could not release herself. She had neither weapons nor tools, but her mind was sharp and her brain contained enough information on escape to make Houdini jealous. Unfortunately, nothing she was trying was working. After her ordeal, she lacked the strength to pull the chains from the wall, and breaking them was out of the question. She had tried stretching the chains so one of the links would bend enough for her to slide its neighbours out, but that had not worked either.

  For the past ten minutes or so she had taken to using her blood as a lubricant as she attempted to slide her hands through the manacles. Her side was still bleeding, but it was from her shoulder injury that she was able to get the most blood onto the metal. When the blood had not proved sufficient she had spat on her wrists until her mouth was dry.

  Presently she had one hand partway through the manacle, but she did not believe she was as yet even halfway.

  The door opened and Arowana tensed, her heart racing at the thought that Haskell was back already. She had known fear before, when Securitarn had strapped her to a table and cut into her brain, but this woman caused her such fear she was furious with herself.

  The light flicked on and Arowana winced, averting her eyes from the glare. She listened to the footsteps enter the room and wished she could get just one hand free in time.

  “What the hell did she do to you?”

  Arowana looked up, still not entirely able to open her eyes. There was a woman before her, but it was not Haskell. She did not look familiar and Arowana did not believe they had met.

  “Who are you?” Arowana asked.

  “Rosalita. Sorry, I think it might be my fault you’re here. That’s why I came, to see whether I could do anything to … Good God.”

  Arowana saw her staring at the four nasty puncture wounds in her side. “Haskell’s a piece of work,” Arowana said. “Get me down.”

  Stunned, all Rosalita could do was stare, so Arowana barked at her a little louder. This jolted Rosalita from her petrification and almost made her turn and run. But the woman began muttering to herself, telling herself she had to do something, and her eyes fell upon the casket. She moved over and raised the lid before stepping back in horror.

  “It’s probably not a pretty sight,” Arowana said, “but are there any keys in there?”

  “Keys, keys … I can’t see any.”

  “Look harder.”

  Rosalita winced at the thought of looking any deeper into the casket, but Arowana was not about to die because the woman was squeamish. She snapped at her again and Rosalita dug around a little more eagerly. She tossed out a few torture implements to make her search easier and Arowana tried not to react as she saw the familiar corkscrew skitter across the floor. This was followed by thumbscrews, a small curved blade and a collection of successively larger knives, each of which stabbed into Arowana’s heart without even touching her skin.

  She jolted as a flurry of small glass balls scattered across the floor like marbles. She had no idea how Haskell had intended to torture her with those but did not want to find out.

  “Would you hurry?” she hissed.

  “Sorry, working on it. Aha!” Rosalita triumphantly held out a small metal bar, split at the end to resemble a snake’s tongue. It could have been a miniature crowbar, but since it was in the chest Arowana suspected it was a toenail remover. Rosalita rushed over and shoved the thing between Arowana’s wrist and its manacle. The metal pierced her flesh but Arowana did not cry out. She did not want to break the other woman’s concentration, for Rosalita had one eye narrowed, her tongue having slid out the side of her mouth as she focused on her task.

  “How’s it coming?”

  “Stop hassling me.”

  Arowana stopped hassling her.

  Finally there was a click and the manacle came free. Rosalita yelped with delight and moved onto the other wrist. Now she had the hang of it, she was able to get it open in a much shorter time.

  With nothing to keep her hanging from the wall, Arowana fell forward, collapsing into Rosalita. Neither woman had expected that, and Arowana realised she was more drained than she figured. Rosalita took a few moments to help Arowana regain her balance before furtively letting her go so she could concentrate on the leg manacles.

  Arowana watched her work and suddenly realised something very important, something her pain-fuddled mind had not deemed entirely important until now.

  “Rosalita,” she asked, “who are you? You said it was your fault I’m here. What does that mean?”

  “I think I dropped Wyatt in it. I didn’t realise he was undercover. And by dropping him in it I dropped you in it. And since he got away and you were caught I figured Haskell would be working you over, which meant it was my duty as a human being to come see if you were all right.” She got one manacle open and started work on the final one. “I knew she was a monster, but I never figured she tortured people down here. I’m sorry.”

  “Hardly your fault.” The final manacle came free and Arowana fought against falling over again, but thankfully Rosalita had risen to take hold of her just in case she did.

  Throwing Arowana’s arm over her shoulder, Rosalita said, “We should be going.”

  “No argument there.” Every movement brought fresh pain to her, every step sent fire through her body, but Arowana did not have the time to stop and tend to her wounds. The torments Haskell had inflicted upon her had not been designed to kill, so she reasoned she would likely still be alive once she returned to Wraith. As the only doctor she trusted at that moment, Wraith would patch her up. She just needed to get off the Obsidian to find him.

  Rosalita opened the door and the two women walked out. It was slow going, for Arowana had no strength left, even with the knowledge that she could not stay in the same place for long. As she hobbled along, her companion offered no complaint, and Arowana reasoned Rosalita truly did feel bad about everything that had happened to her.

  “So,” Arowana said, if only to take the other woman’s mind off their situation, “how do you know Wyatt?”

  “We … met in a saloon.”

  “Ah. Does he remember?”

  Rosalita said something derogatory about Harman’s entire family and Arowana laughed. It sent fresh agony through her side, but it was worth it.

  “If you know what he’s like,” Rosalita said, “why are you with him?”

  “I have no idea.” After a few steps she realised what Rosalita had meant. “Oh, I’m not with him. Not like that, anyway. We just travel together.”

  “How’d you meet?”

  “He was in a cell.”

  “Best place for him.”

  “Some priests wanted to crucify him.”

  “An even better place for him.”

  “You really don’t like Wyatt, do you?”

  After a few moments of silence, Rosalita said, “I don’t hate him. I wouldn’t have gone to bed with him if I hated him. I just don’t like being used.”

  “And you weren’t using him? If you go to bed with a complete stranger, sounds like you were using each other.”

  “That’s true enough. All right, I suppose I like to be the one to end the relationship, or to at least talk about ending the relationship.”

  “Maybe Wyatt’s wa
y is better. You both got you wanted out of it. If he didn’t stick around to talk about it, does it matter?”

  “You seem to know a lot about what happened between us.”

  “No, I just know what the man’s like. Not through experience,” she hastened to add. “But he thinks highly of himself. He styles himself as a Robin Hood Casanova, so it’s not really that difficult to guess how he’d act in certain situations.”

  “What about you?” Rosalita asked. “You’re not really the Lady Dubois, are you?”

  “No. My name’s Iris, but I’d prefer not to give my surname.”

  “And the people on your ship? One of them was called Wraith, but I didn’t catch the name of the other guy.”

  “Gordon.”

  “He sounded worried about you. I’m good at sensing that sort of thing.”

  The words made Arowana strangely warm. It gave her a good feeling to talk about Hawthorn after everything she had been through. “He’d better be worried,” she said. “In fact, he’s probably here somewhere.”

  “Here?”

  “He’ll have come to rescue me.”

  “I beat him to it.”

  “All we have to do is find him. He’ll be here and he’ll have brought a spacecraft.”

  “That’s some faith you have in your man, Iris, but what if he hasn’t bothered? What if he’s just like Wyatt Harman?”

  “Trust me, Gordon is nothing like Wyatt Harman.”

  Rosalita clearly did not share her faith, but nor did she disagree. The more Arowana thought about their situation, the more she was confident Hawthorn would be working out a way to board the Obsidian. If he had indeed brought a ship all they would have to do would be to find him and they could all leave together. It still would not have solved the problem of the slaves, but right at that moment Arowana knew she needed to be patched up. Her mission had failed and she needed extraction before they could even consider making another attempt.

  Of course, with her having sustained such injuries, the others on the Glory might well decide they had risked enough and cut their losses. Leaving the Obsidian now could mean abandoning the slaves, for Hawthorn might agree to leave them behind, being forced to choose between the slaves and Arowana. That meant whatever she was going to do to rescue them she would have to do now, before she met up with Hawthorn.