Nabvan

by Celeste Raye

  In other words, a prostitute. Clara looked away. Ariel added, “But he also said I could have part of what I make if I chose the latter. Better than what our government offered, I guess, but still not a big choice.”

  Jessica took a break from the food to ask, “Anyone talk to the others?’

  Ariel shook her head. “No, the doors closed before I knew it was happening. I think they were all in one room though. Not like us. All of us got our own rooms.”

  The special treatment had to mean something. Clara asked, “Why are they not here eating?”

  Jessica said, “I don’t think they find any of them valuable.”

  Ariel’s mouth hung open, revealing a bit of food. “You don’t think they plan to not feed them do you?”

  Jessica stopped eating. A shadow lay on her face. “I don’t know.”

  Margie began tucking the printer cakes into a pocket of her suit. Ariel asked, “What are you doing?”

  Margie said, “The doors open from the outside. Maybe we can sneak them some food.”

  “There’s no need for that.” Renall’s amused voice cut into their conversation. Clara jumped. She hadn’t heard the door open, or him step inside. Her eyes went to him. He added, “They will be fed. It’s just that they are emotional just now and we are waiting for them to calm down.”

  Ire swept up again. Clara said, “Maybe they would calm down faster if they weren’t locked up in a room and hungry.”

  His eyes studied her. He said, “I will admit my human level is low. Maybe I should try that.”

  He turned and walked out. The door whisked closed. Margie tucked another cake into a pocket saying, “Just in case,” as she did.

  Jessica said, “It seems to me we were talking about escape earlier and they have neatly given us all a reason not to. Not that we could aboard the ship; none of us are flight able.”

  Clara said, “Anyone?’

  Margie and Ariel shook their heads. The door opened again. Three women came in. Renall didn’t. He hit a button, and the door whirred shut again. Clara smiled at the three. “You hungry?”

  They came forward slowly. One of them was older, at least forty. She shook like she had fever. Her face was soaked, and white rings of shock stood up all around her eyes. The other two were near Clara’s age, mid-twenties. They looked enough alike to be related, and after a few minutes, the four women discovered that the older woman was Dana and the two younger women were her daughters, Sanar and Lois. They’d all been sold, and by Dana’s husband to satisfy a hunger debt.

  Dana was angry. She said, “It’s not fair. I was a good wife. They were good daughters. They had their work and did it well. They brought home credits. We just had a bad year. And we have four sons too. One of them would have satisfied the debt.”

  Sanar said, “But they wouldn’t. Besides, only men can pawn, and they never pawn themselves or their sons, just their women.”

  The bitterness was real, and Clara understood it. Back on their home planet, men were always in charge. Some women like Jessica held higher positions in the Capo and other agencies, but a male family member too could pawn them, even if they were valuable government workers. Had Jessica been pawned or outright sold? Was she just too ashamed to admit it and saying she had been sent away by the Capo to cover that? It was possible. A woman who had been pawned or sold bore the family’s shame. They bore the stigma of hunger and debt, and their sale or pawn negated the debt from the men in the family but left the shame on the women.

  It was a pretty vile system, especially now that Clara knew the government was sending women to Narnlia, and likely other pleasure planets too as slaves.

  But why Dana? She was old and tired. Her hair was lank and her back a little stooped. Dana answered that by adding, “And I was not even to be a wife, but a servant. That was so hurtful to me.”

  Lucky her. Now she wouldn’t have to be the cleanup crew at a brothel her daughters were held prisoner in. Dana surged onward. “Lois, eat.” To Margie, she added, “You’re hiding food? That’s smart. But it shows. You need to…” Her forehead puckered. “Well, the suits are so poorly designed, how could you help but be noticeable with the food?”

  Lois said, “Mom sews. She’s a seamstress.”

  It was the first Lois had spoken, and Clara realized, with a sinking heart, that the girl was simple brained. Jessica looked away, pity on her face as Dana smoothed Lois’ hair away from her forehead with a tender hand. “It’s all right. We’re safe anyway.”

  Yes. But for how long? Clara had to wonder, and when she asked, “Have they spoken to you?” her fears grew deeper as Dana said, “No. Why?”

  Jessica said, “Just wondering.” She shot Clara a long look that held both empathy and resignation. Clara sighed inwardly. She asked, “What jobs did you have?”

  Lois piped in, her childish voice trembling. “I make buttons and sew them. Saran works textile. Factory work.”

  Clara’s heart sank even further as she realized that those three’s fate hung in the balance.

  After they’d eaten and Renall took them back to their chambers, she said, quietly, “I need to speak with you.”

  He entered her chamber, and the door whirred shut. She watched it close, wondering how he would get back out. Her heart pounded. Her every instinct told her to say never mind, that she had forgotten what she had to say. Instead, she drew a deep breath and said, “The mother and daughters, what will happen to them?’

  Renall’s handsome face was so close to hers, and a strange and wild longing overtook her. That feeling was so strong, Clara had to look away as he said, “I have not decided yet. They are not valuable.”

  “I…” Don’t do it, she warned herself. Don’t make yourself responsible for them. “The mother is a seamstress. You have halls, and maybe…” Inspiration struck. “Maybe she could make costumes for the girls. The one, Lois, she’s too simple. You can’t sell her off and send her away from her mother. She won’t survive.”

  He came closer. Her heartbeat ticked up yet again. Her pulse pounded against the skin of her throat. She stared down at her shoes, but his finger lifted her head, forced her to look at him. His odd eyes stared into hers, and Clara had the uneasy feeling he was seeing far more than she wanted him to see. She closed her eyes, deliberately walling off all thought.

  Renall spoke. “You’d take charge of them?’

  No. Say no. Her eyes stayed tightly shut. Every lesson she had ever learned swam up and warned against her agreeing to that bargain. She had enough on her shoulders. She was trying to build alliances with the others, in case escape presented itself in a way she could not say no to—and in case he decided to break his word about the rewards of working his tables. “I didn’t say that.”

  He chuckled. Her eyes popped open. His face came even closer. The lush curves of his mouth drew her attention, and she found herself wondering what those lips felt like, would feel like, pressed onto hers. Heat hit her cheeks, and she swallowed hard then stepped back, putting distance between them.

  He said, “You choose your words wisely, but not your alliances.’

  “It’s not an alliance.” Her arms crossed over her chest, but the vulnerability stayed. Her breath came too fast, giving her away, so she slowed it. “I just don’t want to see them injured.”

  “Humans.” His word held contemplation not condemnation. “You are a strange species. The government you choose to rule you is cruel and unforgiving and demands all from you, but yet you still have learned nothing about allowing someone else to gain your pity.”

  “Maybe pity is all our government allows us.” Her words held rancor. “Or maybe it is because that is one thing I could never afford back there that makes me ask. Why do you care? Anyway, all I said was they can work, and be valuable.”

  He stepped into the space she had put between them. His body had a pleasant odor that made her want to draw closer and inhale that scent. She stepped back instead. He didn’t come forward. His eyes darkened though, a slight s
hading toward an indigo color, then he looked away.

  “I see,” he said softly. “Then, if you truly feel so, you shall buy them yourself.”

  No. Goddamn it all to hell! Her teeth clenched. It was too late. He was heading for the door. She found her tongue. “How am I supposed to do that? I already am indebted for my family.”

  “Then perhaps you better make sure they sew very well, and that you win a lot.”

  He didn’t move, but the door opened anyway, leaving her puzzled. It must be a triggering mechanism, perhaps a scanning device that identified him as a jailer and not a captive.

  He stepped out of the door, leaving her swearing and shaken.

  Her confusion grew when a sudden burst of color lit the sky outside the bay windows. There was a tremendous boom, and the ship rocked. Sirens went off.

  Clara shouted, “Not again!”

  The chamber doors popped open. Jessica exited hers, her face already tight with fear and determination. Ariel and Margie came out as well. Dana clung to her daughters, and none of the three of them looked eager to find out what was happening.

  Clara said, “Stay here, okay?”

  Dana nodded. The other four women set off down the hall, following the running crewmembers.

  She saw Renall strapping on a weapon and shouted, “What is it?”

  “Brigands!”

  Brigands? “You’re a brigand ship!

  He grinned at her. “There is no honor among thieves it seems. Here,” he handed her a weapon she had no idea how to use. Jessica and the others were being armed too. Ariel asked, “What do I do with it?”

  Jessica said, “Point that end and squeeze that lever. Pray you don’t run out of burst before you kill whatever is coming at you.”

  Okay then, Clara thought. She stood, her shoulder pressed against Renall’s. He whispered, “We can’t outrun them yet, but Talon will figure out a way to get past their ship. In the meantime, we are going to be boarded. Shoot fast. It doesn’t matter if you hit anyone, just keep shooting so those with better aim can have a chance to reload and aim and kill.”

  Sounded easy enough. She asked, “What if I run out of bursts?”

  “When you run out of bursts, run away.”

  That answer hardly reassured her. She took three shaky breaths. Jessica stepped forward. She said, “The door.”

  The line of beings waiting all tensed. Ariel let out a long whimper. Her weapon jerked and bobbed in her hand Clara felt sick to her stomach, and that sickness got worse when the outer door peeled back and a set of creatures wearing large suits on their bodies charged in.

  The weapon discharged. It sent a long stream of blazing light at the creatures running at them. Clara had the sudden horrifying realization that if she accidentally fired into a floor or walk, she could destroy a vital part of the ship, but the idea of killing something was not what she wanted to do either. She aimed lower, at their legs. Two fell. Renall sent deadly fire at the ones she had downed, killing them instantly and sickening her even more. Her finger stayed steady even though her entire body shook like she had the low rot.

  The creatures just kept coming! She ran out of bursts. Renall and the others kept firing, but it was clear that unless Talon could get them away from the ship and they could reduce the number of creatures boarding, they were doomed.

  Jessica charged in, her body a weapon. Clara lifted the butt of her weapon over her head and brought it down into the face shield of a suit. The line connected to the suit popped open, spilling a noxious stink into the crowded hall. Her feet slid in gore and fallen bodies.

  She hacked at another one, using the weapon like a bat and then when it fell under a falling body, she launched herself onto the back of a creature that was reaching for Margie. Her fingers yanked the hose thing away because part of her brain had already registered that they needed those snaking hoses to survive.

  The same awful stink came. Clara gagged and yanked at the helmet then wished she hadn’t when she came face to face with a creature whose face was not only not human, but also snake-like and with tentacles as well. It hissed at her, showing row after row of needle-sharp teeth. Clara screamed and kicked out, landing a few solid kicks to its body before Renall charged in and shot it dead.

  Time drew out and collapsed as they fought. The ship turned sharply, sending all of them flying pell-mell across the floor, the walls, and even the ceiling. Clara landed in a throbbing pile atop a crewmember that shook her off and made it to his feet just in time to shoot a creature that had its head reared back to bite her leg off.

  “Thanks,” Clara muttered.

  She grabbed a discarded weapon. It didn’t fire, but she clubbed a creature with it and managed to disconnect its hose. Jessica was fighting two at once and everyone else was too occupied with just staying alive themselves to help her, so Clara ran for her and managed to get on the back of one of the creature, hauling it backward and away from Jessica, who had been using a broken hunk of metal she had picked up from somewhere to stab the nearest one.

  Clara screamed as Jessica speared the one whose back she was on. Jessica panted out, “Behind you!”

  Clara didn’t turn around. Instead, she went to the right. She and Jessica managed to take that one down together. Blood and that putrid reek hung all over the air. The scent of sweat and fear was nearly unbearable.

  “Take the bride ship, they said,” she muttered, “You will have a good life, they said.” More blood sprayed into the air beside her as Marik shot a creature. Another one died, and Clara’s eyes went to the bay doors to see that they had moved away from the other ship and now Talon was firing upon that ship.

  Jessica drove a creature to the door then kicked it hard, sending it flying into open space. Jeval grabbed Jessica just as the gravity suck almost took her out behind that thing she had just fought off.

  Clara and Renall wound up face to face again. He was splattered with blood and gore. His face held a weary expression. His hair was mussed and his eyes, those large and lambent eyes, had dark shadows forming below them.

  They stood there, both of them staring at each other. Her breasts lifted and fell. They were so close she could feel the lift and fall of his chest against hers. Her eyes went to his lips. His eyes stayed on hers, but she sensed that he was looking at her mouth as well.

  Then another blast from the brigand ship shook the craft they were on. Renall ran for the bridge with the crew behind him. Marik and Jeval began tossing bodies off the ship. Ariel crouched in a corner, weeping openly. Clara went to her. She hunkered down beside her. “Are you all right?”

  Margie came up. She knelt too. Ariel looked from one to the other, her eyes wide and wild. “I...I didn’t know they would actually die.”

  Marik tossed a body out. Another blast from their craft made the ship tilt to one side a little. Clara had to grab at the wall to keep from sliding. She said, “Me either. I don’t even know what they are. Were.”

  Jeval drew near. He reached out a hand. His fingers stroked across Ariel’s forehead. “Peace be in you.”

  Ariel blinked. Her tears stopped. Her shaking did too. She went still, and the low ragged breathing coming from her mouth changed to a soft and normal pattern.

  Margie asked, “What did you do to her?”

  Jeval sighed. “I don’t know, exactly. It is said that many of my race had that ability once, but since we were not raised with many of our race, I don’t know for sure what it is or even how to really use it beyond—well, that.”

  Margie asked, “Why weren’t you raised with your race?’

  Marik shouted, “Jeval, we need to get this done and get this closed.”

  Jeval ignored the question and said, “Come help us.”

  Clara stood. She said, “Where’s Jessica?”

  “She ran for the bridge,” Jeval said. He bent and picked up the top of a body. “Grab the feet.”

  Which ones? The thing had eight. She grimaced and grabbed at the first ones that came to hand then helped Jeva
l to tote the thing to the door and toss it out.

  Ariel recovered and helped, as did Margie. The ship they fired on died. The strip spikes went down, and Renall appeared. He stood next to Clara and spoke softly. “You are very brave.”

  “I was very scared,” she said.

  His eyes met hers. “But you did not run.”

  Clara looked away. “If I had known a way out, I would have.”

  Renall asked, “Did you run from trouble where you are from?”

  Her arms wrapped around her body. “No. There was no point to it. They would catch you anyway. Or worse. It was better to fight.”

  Renall said, “True enough.”

  She looked at the floor. She and the others had been given buckets and cloths and some stringent fluid to clean it with, and they had, but the smell still remained. “What were they?”

  “They’re Gorlites.”

  There was real hatred in his voice, and she heard it. “I don’t know what that is.”

  “They are parasites they deserved to die.” His eyes met hers and did not flinch. “I have to go check on the wrecking crew. I am leaving you in charge of the others.”

  “Why me?”

  “Because Jessica, who would be the best choice, jumped into the tube to go with the wreckers.”

  “Wow. That woman is insane.” Clara said, “Okay. I don’t know what to do.”

  “Just make sure they are okay. Keep them calm. Especially the seamstress. Marik will be giving med aid so see if he needs your help with that. If he does, marshal them and make them help.”

  He walked off. Marik found her, and he did need help. Clara went to fetch Dana, and she proved adept at stitching flesh back together even if she did weep the entire time.

  By the time Renall returned with the rest of the crew, Clara was weak with exhaustion and hunger. Renall found her in a small room bent over a wounded crewmember. He took her by the arm and said, “That is enough. Come.”

  He led her back toward her chamber. His clothes were filthier than ever, and his suit had more blood on it now. She said, “I…I really wish I had never gotten on that ship.”