Trapped: Chaos Core Book 1

by Lalonde, Randolph

  A soft brown and green cloak was wrapped around her shoulders, cloth twigs and leaves were sewn into the garment. The tall furry woman regarded her for a moment, tilting her head and looking at the robe. “It fits, and it hides all but your neck and face, exactly as the Countess ordered.”

  “Then why did I just get painted?”

  “That is an excellent question that I can’t answer, my dear. I’m Tonic.”

  “It’s good to meet you,” Aspen replied.

  “I’ll be dressing you until you eventually escape,” she replied in a whisper. “Don’t say anything, I just know that’s how your time here will end. There is something about you that tells me that this won’t last long.”

  Aspen raised the sides of her cloak high enough to surround her face so only Tinick could see her and mouthed; “Can you help me?”

  Tinick laughed cheerily and shook her head. “I’m from the theatre, a place where we understand the importance of timing, you understand. If someone comes in too early, they embarrass themselves, too late and they show a kind of unprofessionalism that leads to even deeper humiliation. When treading the boards of a great house, either one is akin to death. If there’s any help I can offer, it’s only a lesson in timing.”

  The message was fairly clear to Aspen, she had to time whatever she did just right, wait for the right opportunity and make sure she didn’t miss it. She decided that she could help hide the tip by asking a clever question. “Am I part of any performances tonight? Is there anything I shouldn’t miss? I’d hate to make things worse by disappointing the Countess even more.”

  “You are an ornament this evening, the Countess is only interested in showing the court that you have returned, but she doesn’t want anyone to see that you’ve changed. You know, I think you look healthier than the one who was dieted and primped to specification, but what do I know? I’ve only been designing and costuming for thirty years. I would say stand still, pay attention, and try not to fall asleep on your feet.”

  “So, all I’m getting is this robe, and I’ll be standing there all night,” Aspen said. “Dais deco mode.”

  “As far as I know,” Tinick said, tugging the hood up and fixing it into place. “Our time is finished for today, I’ll see you tomorrow morning. I’m supposed to make you look unrealistically skinny using nothing but my wits and clothing, so that’s something you can look forward to.” The silver furred creature rolled her eyes and shook her head.

  Aspen left the room, looking forward to seeing the new designer again, but not looking forward to whatever measures it might take to create the illusion that she hadn’t gained weight since she escaped. It irked her that she would be forced to lose centimetres, she felt healthy, and no one ever complained about her appearance when she was free.

  The ball was already under way, and palace guards met Aspen as soon as she emerged from the wardrobe room with her cloak closed all the way down. There was nothing but dye underneath, and Aspen wasn’t interested in putting a show on before she had to. Her stomach grumbled. There had been plenty to drink, some of it thick and sweet, not much of it identified, but it seemed that within minutes of her mouth leaving a straw, hunger began creeping back.

  Following the guards to the side entrance of the ball room, she asked them; “neither of you would have anything to eat on you, would you? I’ll flash a little leg for half a meal bar, c’mon.”

  The guard on the left chuckled, the other shook his head.

  “I’ll open right up for a hot Power Pocket,” she added, opening the top of her robe a few centimetres.

  The one who shook his head slipped her a meal bar and said; “No flashing required. You didn’t get that from me, right?”

  “You are my saviour, and its bad luck to rat on someone who saves your butt,” Aspen said as she hid it in the neck of her robe and took a big bite. They were in the narrow side entrance to the ball room, waiting for a red light to go on above their heads. “You get double points for chocolate, oh my God, thank you.” She said through a full mouth.

  “Hurry up and scarf that down,” the other guard said, chuckling.

  The bar was gone too soon, but she was happy to have had solid food without getting caught. “Thanks again, um, which one are you?”

  “No names,” he replied. “That way I won’t get fired or killed over a meal bar.”

  “Good point.”

  The light above her head turned red and the doors opened silently, cool mist rolling in front of it. The lights in the ball room were dimmed, and Aspen could see the stars through the tall windows at the other end of the hall.

  There was a clear lane between hundreds of gathered guests leading to the middle of the massive vaulted room. Dead leaves lined the aisles with faint green light between. Aspen saw that Larken was already approaching from the other side of the hall, horns protruding from his head, brown dye and paints applied so he looked like he belonged in some ancient woodland. He was more muscular than she remembered, and Aspen hoped that the costumer was right, that there was nothing special planned for her that night.

  When they met in the middle, Larken gently took her in his arms. “A little kiss,” he said before planting his lips on hers for a lingering moment, then he walked her to the foot of the Countess’s throne. “I present your Aspen, once lost in the wild, now found and returned,” he said to her.

  Aspen followed his lead as he bowed deeply. All Aspen could see were the Countess’s green-shod feet, she was bowing so low, and for a long moment she remained frozen in place.

  “Welcome home,” was all the Countess had to say to set the courtiers off in a torrent of polite clapping. The sound made her cringe, but Aspen made sure she was smiling brightly when the Countess’ long fingers touched her forehead, then directed her and Larken to take their places to her right and left.

  Given a moment of quiet, even from the right side of the dais, Aspen’s thoughts returned to the crewmembers who were delivered to the Countess because they tried to help her. She couldn’t help but wonder where her friends were, what they were doing, and how she’d get them out of the mess she’d gotten them into.

  The membership of the Countess’ court was a mixture of the military, government, and social elite. It had been too long, and the mad machines had killed too many of the old wealthy courtiers, or at least that’s the assumption Aspen made. She didn’t recognize any of the faces out of the two hundred or more people in the massive space. In the dim light, she only saw clothes stuffed with unfamiliar humans. United Core Authority uniforms socialized with revealing dresses and tight summer suits, while less fashionable suits and dresses adorned with government seals mixed between awkwardly. These were the people who had to work harder to find their way to the social elite, the ones that were elected, or planted, or controlled and generally disrespected by everyone else. She’d seen it before. Few government officials had the respect of the ultra-wealthy or the highest ranks in the military. Either group could have someone in government replaced, but it wasn’t so easy to supplant the wealthy or the military.

  The faces were different, but the dynamic was the same, leading Aspen to wonder if she would find a friendly maverick amongst them. There was always at least one person who thought differently, respected life more than the rest, and would bend the rules for the sake of doing something different. They were often easy to spot either because they were more flamboyant or deeply, obviously bored. She had to find them fast, earn their trust or at least intrigue them enough to get their help. Her friends were waiting, and she didn’t want to put up with the Countess’ lifestyle for a minute longer than she had to.

  The revelation that Larken was alive made everything complicated. If it weren’t for him she would take the first chance she had to slip away and get the information she needed from the computer. At the next opportunity, she’d steal a ship and do whatever she could to get her friends, but Larken was still deluded to think that he was living a good life with the Countess, that she saw him as something
other than property.

  Every time she looked into his eyes she wanted to kiss him, and she wanted to slap him. He seemed dazed to her, like she just needed the right words or the right image to wake him from his daydream and then they could leave together. There were layers of security, faithful courtiers that could get in their way, but if her taste of freedom taught her anything, it was that luck favoured decisive people who took the initiative. She’d find her way out, she’d find the right time, and Aspen hoped she could convince Larken to go with her when it came.

  Her thoughts were interrupted as one of the courtiers, an older woman started crossing the empty space between the dais and her. She was in a simpler dress that celebrated new blooms with bits of fabric hanging off like leaves and flower petals all the way down. It was equipped with a hood that the woman kept half up and toyed with. “Are you in there, Aspen?” she asked, smiling.

  Aspen recognized her voice right away. “Instructor Emani? You look very healthy tonight,” she said, priding herself on replacing the word ‘young’ with ‘healthy’ the instant before she said it. Her old instructor in most things from politics, to finances, to life skills looked twenty years younger than she did when Aspen was eight.

  “It’s a long story, but I was caught in the attack that nearly killed the Countess and they decided to give me more years while I was in recovery. It’s good to see you healthy and whole, Aspen.”

  “I used-“ Aspen corrected herself before going on. “I was forced to use so much of what you taught me while I was away. I don’t think I would have survived if I didn’t spend years learning from you.”

  “Flatterer,” she said. “I should have you speak to the new ones I’m teaching. They’re more fitful than you were at that age. Do you think you may need some brushing up? We could do both at the same time.”

  “That sounds good, I would serve much better if I could catch up on what’s been happening while I’ve been gone. I’m sure a lot has changed,” Aspen said. There was no sign that her instructor was hinting at anything more than she was saying, though she watched her every move just in case the older woman had some tip for her.

  “It’s set then, tomorrow afternoon unless something comes up for you,” Instructor Emani said. “Good to see you again,” she said before drifting back towards the crowd.

  Broad trays piled high with tasty morsels were brought in from the left and right entrances. They moved past the dais, to the Countess first, then to Larken and Aspen. She was just looking forward to taking a cream filled strawberry when the Countess looked to the servers. “She doesn’t need anything tonight.”

  Aspen remained in her place stoically as she watched the server with the first fruit tray regard her with sympathy before moving on to the rest of the room. She flashed him a brief smile, knowing that his lot was much worse than hers. The slave quarters were a place of harsh discipline and hard work.

  Watching the crowd of guests socialize, dance but most of all eat and drink started to get on Aspens’ nerves before long. The first thing she complained about when she won her freedom was the immediate reduction in the quality of the food, that was, until she ran out. She faced real starvation and dehydration a few times in the early days, but once she joined the crew of the Cool Angel her food and water worries came to an end. There was a lot to complain about there, but she never found herself without some kind of food within reach. Compared to most crewmembers, she ate very little, so much so her Lieutenant, Sun often encouraged her to eat more.

  “I think I’ll retire for the evening,” the Countess said. She had spoken to only five courtiers, and didn’t mingle at all, something that surprised Aspen. When she was in service before, her throne was constantly surrounded, the chattering used to remind her of a hen house from the organic ranch. A look at the new courtiers suggested that they may be afraid of the Countess, or perhaps shied by her appearance.

  Even her consort, Kort, was absent. Aspen silently hoped he was killed when the machines turned. She also hoped that she wouldn’t be pressed into socializing on the Countess’ behalf. As Larken and her approached adulthood they were pressed into service as negotiators and general socializers in her court. Most of the people she met were vain, proud and in search of praise or some other prize. Some would proposition her tirelessly, something Larken had to put up with only a little less. A few became friends, and she found none in the crowd that night.

  “You may both retire,” the Countess said as she carefully stood and exited using a special door hidden behind her throne. Her dress was surprisingly unremarkable, white with blue highlights that flowed down the extensive length.

  The courtiers didn’t seem to pay much attention to the Countess’s departure. Larken was at her side, taking her hand the moment the door sealed behind the Countess. He led her from the hall into a servant’s corridor. “Where are we going?” Aspen asked.

  “I’m taking you to my rooms, I can’t wait to spend time away with you, and to get this dye off,” he said as he rushed through the narrower corridors with their scuffed walls and floors. Servants dressed in loose white tunics and gold leggings let them pass as they held trays piled with drinks.

  Aspen couldn’t help but snatch two high, frosty, fruity glasses. The slave, a girl just old enough to serve, smiled at her, amused by the theft. Larken stopped and looked back at Aspen when her hand slipped from his and she gave him one of the stolen drinks.

  “We don’t have much time,” Larken whispered in a tone that was much more serious than any he’d used that day.

  She kept up, carrying the drinks as carefully as she could as they cut through one of the kitchens, where she was tempted to put them down and trade up for anything being prepared there. Stealing from the kitchen would be harder than a drink tray, however, the slaves there took more pride in their work than the servers, and they had paid chefs as keepers who might notice.

  A few turns through the halls later, and they reached the main rooms, where silent attendants stood at the ready to serve any of the residents in that wing. All one had to do was use the intercom inside a room and one of the platinum and gold clad attendants would assist you with whatever you liked. The rewards for the post were generous, but Aspen heard stories about what some of them had to deliver, take away or do inside the rooms to assist some of the more eccentric and demanding guests. She would rather de-grease an entire space station’s gear works than take the job of a household attendant.

  Larkin’s room was lavish, and surprisingly adult. Any artefacts of his childhood were absent, including the plushie horse he used to sleep with as a child, or any evidence of fandom. There were no images on the wall, just their favourite colours – crimson and royal blue – on the walls, decorating the bed, and in the trimming. The main room had a lavish bed, an adjacent closet larger than most small shuttle craft, and a bathroom that was larger than any crew quarters she’d ever seen.

  He took the drinks from her politely, put them down on an end table, then pulled her into his arms. “Trust me,” he whispered against her lips before kissing her and slowly pulling her robe down.

  Aspen found him irresistible, especially since there seemed to be much more firmness in his kiss. She didn’t just relent, she joined him vigorously, letting her robe drop and pulling at the ties holding his up.

  With a sudden jerk that made her yip and giggle, he picked her up and carried her into the large shower with him. Warm water sprayed from all angles and a vibration system forced it to gently scrub their skin. He held her close after putting her down, and kissed her briefly before smiling at her. It was a real, open smile, the kind only she could get out of him. “We can talk here, the listening devices can’t pick anything up with the vibrating micro-beads running in the shower. The Countess told me you were killed when the AI’s turned on us. She even showed me video and had a funeral. I found out you were alive three months ago, when Master Kort let it slip that he was hunting you. It was so hard to hide how angry I was, but I had to keep the Counte
ss’ trust,” he said in a rush. He caressed her back and shoulders as he did so, and she watched him speak. The deluded version of Larken, who worshipped the Countess was completely gone. “When she told me you were alive yesterday, that the UCA found you, I finally revealed that I had known for months. I’ve never seen her so surprised in my life, but she trusts me even more now that she’s seen that I didn’t try to escape and find you myself. What was it like out there? Master Kort tells everyone that it’s a lawless, no-man’s land. He says raiders attack all the time, and the UCA is losing everywhere.”

  “It’s dangerous,” Aspen said. “But as soon as I met people who needed me, I started making friends, making money. Do you know what happened to my friends?”

  “They’re in transit on one of the slow freighters. Safe for now, it’s an out of the way, numbered system. I couldn’t find out what kind of operation the Countess has going there. We can get to them.”

  “So you want to escape with me?” she asked excitedly.

  “I’m absolutely terrified, I’m not too proud to admit it, but I can’t stay here, not with her. Staying when I knew you were out there, alive, and devoting myself to the Countess and her companies was the hardest thing I’ve ever done. She has the largest slave trade in history, and I had to close some of the deals that made it grow. There are days when I can’t stand myself. I haven’t been able to find out what she’s planning next, not specifically, but I know it was important to get you back, and to keep us together.”

  Aspen stroked his back. “We’ll undo what we can, maybe steal some of what’s hers for ourselves.” The kiss that followed was slow, long and luscious.

  “The Fleet Feather is always delivering and picking people up, it’s our best chance. I get alerts whenever someone new lands, I’m the Countess’s man for greeting new guests. I’ve been planning this for months, I even got a snapshot of the entire estate’s database using General Grave’s access codes.”