Enslaved Book III: The Gladiators

by Kaitlyn O'Connor

  “Alright, we’ll stay here and try to figure out how to set a course … uh … somewhere.”

  “Stay here now. Settle where when figure everyting out.” Kael turned and looked at Dakaar and Balen. “Dakaar stay. Guard ….” He glanced at Karen and Shara and left it at that. “Udders, we go down. Next level split, search, come back to liff. Go down next level.”

  They’d already reached the lift when a thought abruptly struck Loren. “Hey! I had my suitcase with me when I got here. If you see it …?”

  She could tell from the look on his face that Kael didn’t have a clue of what she was talking about. “It’s brown … uh … fake leather. Looks about like your loincloth thingy.” She drew the size and shape with her hands in the air.

  Kael sent her a skeptical look, but he nodded.

  Karen was studying her speculatively when she turned to her again. “You want to tell me how you got here with a suitcase?”

  Loren immediately felt embarrassment flood her at the memory. “Long story,” she muttered dismissively.

  Karen waved her hands to encompass the ship. “I have a bad feeling we’re going to have a lot of time on our hands.”

  None of them needed a reminder that they were a long ways from being out of the woods and her lips tightened. “I told you pretty much the whole story when we first taken,” she reminded her.

  “Except about the suitcase.”

  Loren felt her face reddening. She uttered a huff of irritation. “They told me they were sending me to study alien technology—with the aliens. I didn’t actually volunteer, but I was scared to say no and …. You know everything else,” she said tightly, unable to meet Karen’s gaze.

  “No long story,” Shara commented.

  Loren blinked at her. “It’s a figure …. Never mind!”

  “So … you volunteered?” Karen pursued.

  “I told you I didn’t!” Loren said irritably. “They tricked me. Stupid I know, but I was too focused on being relieved that they didn’t, apparently, mean to snuff me to keep me quiet. I didn’t know what they were doing, or trading, to get the technology. I didn’t even suspect what they were doing. I just suspected that they were trading for it.”

  She glanced toward Dakaar, who’d taken up a position near the door of the lift. “We’ve got a problem.”

  Karen’s lips tightened. “We have a lot of problems.”

  “The one I’m referring to is the fact that we have four different species on this ship and I’m assuming all from different worlds.” She looked at Shara questioningly.

  “Only one from Mizukera,” Shara confirmed. “My mans from Ach.”

  Loren blinked at her, recalling Shara had told them she’d had a man on her home world. It didn’t seem like the time to question the shift in her allegiance, however. She exchanged a long look with Karen. Karen chewed her lip, abruptly looking distraught at the question in Loren’s eyes. “We have to decide now?”

  Loren shook her head. “The truth is that I don’t know if we can find our way back to Earth—or any of the worlds anyone here is from, but we need to decide where we’re going. I’m assuming, since the trader was at the space station so long, that he was there to refuel and restock, but I don’t know that and we can’t ask him now. We might be lucky just to get to a livable planet.”

  “Why don’t we just figure out where we can go … if we can do that much?” Karen suggested. “Kael said we’d settle where we were going later.”

  “I don’t have a clue of how to navigate space,” Loren admitted, following Karen to the console.

  Karen frowned. “This is the trader’s ship, right?”

  “Unless he was running into somebody else’s ship when we caught him.”

  “Don’t even go there! Let’s assume it is. The computer would have recorded the places he stopped, right?”

  “I think we can assume that.” She hesitated. “We were in those pods a long time, Karen. I don’t know how long, but my hair was a lot longer when I came out than when I went in. There might not be enough fuel or food to get back even if you’re right and the computer has that in its memory, and you probably are if this is the trader’s ship.” She couldn’t quite interpret what was going through Karen’s mind from her expression.

  “We couldn’t take the Hirachi … any of the aliens back to Earth anyway. You know that. I know that. Everyone would totally freak out and there’s no telling what might happen.”

  “I know,” Loren agreed.

  “No go my world,” Shara said. “My people no like aliens. Dey freak, too.”

  Loren nodded, but it helped her feelings a little to know humans weren’t the only ones that would be totally hostile to the prospect of being ‘invaded’ by another species. “Computer, pull up a map showing the route the ship has taken over the past six months.”

  “Calculate six months according to what star system?”

  Loren glanced at Karen in dismay. “Try star date,” Karen suggested.

  “That wouldn’t be any help!” Loren snapped. “We aren’t on the damned Enterprise! I don’t know anything about time in space!”

  “Computer,” Karen said, “pull up a map showing the last six ports where this ship docked.”

  “Great idea!” Loren exclaimed, looking up the display hopefully. Her smile fell as she stared at the line that zigzagged across a field of pure black with tiny specks of light.

  “Well fuck!” Karen muttered, expressing her own sentiments.

  She chewed her lower lip, thinking. “Computer, give us a close up of the last port this ship stopped at before it reached the space station.” She narrowed her eyes when the computer produced the image, studying it carefully. “Does that look familiar to either of you?”

  Karen and Shara both moved closer and studied it. “Holy shit! It’s got three suns! Look! There’s two here in the middle and this one way out here.”

  “Are you serious?” Loren demanded, squinting at the image. “This is a star system, computer?”

  “Affirmative. System HM412.”

  “That’s fucking helpful!” Karen muttered.

  Loren glanced toward Dakaar. “Does Ach have three suns?”

  He stared at her as if she was delusional. “Hab two.”

  “What about the red skinned guys? You know anything about where they’re from?”

  He shook his head.

  “Computer, show us the systems in reverse—one by one—slowly. Starting at the space station, go back to each port in reverse order of stops.”

  The next system that flashed on the screen had only one sun, but even though Loren’s heart leapt with excitement, she saw immediately that the single star was a red star. “Not the right color for our star,” she murmured in disappointment.

  “Not enough planets either. I don’t see but four.”

  Loren rubbed her arms. “Computer—what’s the temperature in here?”

  Frustration filled her when the computer gave her a measurement she didn’t understand. “Can you scan me, computer, and tell me what my temperature is?”

  “Affirmative. Scanning. Fifty four degrees telsa.”

  “What’s the temperature of the ship?”

  “Varying.”

  “This level, then.”

  Twenty three degrees telsa.”

  “No wonder I’m freezing to death,” Karen muttered under her breath.

  “Can you bring the heat up on this level to thirty?”

  “Affirmative. I calculate that this will consume 2% of the fuel within one quadrant.”

  “I guess lizard-man was saving on the light bill,” Karen said.

  “Acknowledged,” Loren responded. “Bring it up for now.”

  “Engine consumption at 20%.”

  “Oh my fucking god!” Loren exclaimed. “I forgot I left the engines at full! Computer, can we stay where we are if the engines are shut down?”

  “Negative. Five degree by one hundred eighteen degree drift anticipated.”

  “Jus
t take the engines down low enough to compensate for the drift.”

  “What did it mean by that?” Karen asked uneasily.

  “I don’t really know except moving—and I’d rather stay put until we have something settled … and that’s what Kael said to do.”

  They reviewed every map the computer produced showing the last six stops and then kept going until Loren finally decided it was an exercise in futility. It seemed to her the trader must have stopped at every single planet that had any higher life forms and the worst of it was, she didn’t know if all of them did. He could’ve stopped at any number of places just to pick up food and/or water, or to pick up ‘things’ like he had her and the other women. They might discover this particular ship was very unwelcome in a lot of places. “I think we’ve pretty well proven that we aren’t going to figure out where anybody’s home is,” Loren said tiredly.

  In spite of the despair that thought produced, Loren was so exhausted from the emotional upheaval of their escape that she finally curled up in a ball in the chair and dozed off. The hand that settled on her shoulder woke her with a terrified jolt. She’d already sucked in a sharp breath to scream when her mind finally assimilated that it was Kael leaning over her. She leapt at him, curling her arms tightly around his neck.

  Instead of trying to pry her lose, he gathered her against his chest. “We find place rest,” he murmured, striding through the control room toward the lift.

  Relieved, Loren relaxed fractionally and snuggled closer. The chill as soon as they left the control deck began to invade her. She was shivering by the time the lift stopped and Kael got off and far more alert than she wanted to be. She kept her eyes clenched tightly together, though, determined to retreat into sleep again.

  She felt a moment of panic when Kael settled her on a surprisingly soft surface and pealed her arms loose, but he climbed onto the bed beside her and pulled her against the solid warmth of his body again. The bed felt icy, but Kael was generating enough heat that it began to warm very quickly. The moment she reached a level of comfort that allowed for it, she dropped into darkness again.

  She roused toward the surface of consciousness some time later when Kael moved away from her. Still too deeply asleep to manage more than a complaining noise, she shifted over to the spot he’d left warm and began drifting again. He roused her up again when he returned to the bed and slid in beside her but as soon as he’d coiled his big, blanket warm body around hers she dropped into the abyss again.

  Warmth of a different kind filtered through her when she woke the next time. She was still wrapped up in him. She rubbed her face against his chest appreciatively and then kissed the depression between his male breasts. “Don’t be angry with me anymore,” she said cajoling. “I didn’t mean it when I threw your gift at you. I was just … upset.”

  He stiffened for a few moments and began to stroke her back. “Mean you take back?” Dakaar asked huskily.

  Loren’s eyes popped wide open. Fortunately, he was holding her too tightly to allow her to give away the fact that she’d thought she was talking to Kael.

  Not that she hadn’t intended to apologize to Dakaar and Balen, as well, but it was highly disconcerting to think she was talking to Kael and discover it was Dakaar—especially when it meant that she wasn’t any closer to mending her fences with him than she had been the night before.

  Thank god she’d just said ‘gift’ instead of naming it!

  It was unfortunate that it occurred to her just then that trying to apologize before she’d told them she was ninety-nine percent certain that she was pregnant was going to negate any benefits of apologizing. They were bound to think, once she did tell them, that she’d been devious, that she’d wormed her way back into their graces without telling them because she’d expected them to refuse to take her back otherwise.

  She considered that for several moments and finally realized that she needed to know that they wanted her back just as badly as they might think they needed absolute honesty. If she told them first and they took her back, how would she ever know whether they’d done it because they were so damned noble or because they actually cared?

  Of course, the alternative sucked. They might be so pissed off, either way, that they dumped her. They hadn’t wanted to get her pregnant. They’d said it was because they were slaves and it had sounded completely reasonable, but although she knew they’d been telling the truth as far as it went, that didn’t necessarily rule out that they hadn’t wanted to get her pregnant at all.

  In fact, although her personal experience wasn’t vast, she’d gotten the distinct impression that most men were prone to get really pissed off if their fuck buddy turned up pregnant.

  She wasn’t just going to be miserably unhappy if that happened. She was going to be in serious trouble. This situation went way beyond single parenthood back in the good old USA on mother Earth. She’d had a damned good income before she’d become a sex slave. Now she didn’t have anything … and she couldn’t go back to Earth if she was pregnant. She might not be able to anyway, but she certainly couldn’t if she was. The baby might look just like her and it might not.

  She supposed there was some possibility that they might find a world she liked where her skills in designing ‘alien technology’ might be worth money, but it was daunting prospect, a hell of a lot scarier than just moving to another country when you couldn’t speak their language.

  Dakaar dredged her from her dark thoughts by slipping the hand he’d been lightly caressing her back with along her cleft. He’d been inching ever closer to the glory hole for several minutes. She supposed her lack of a negative reaction had encouraged him.

  She decided she didn’t want to discourage him and reciprocated with a little petting of her own. At least, she’d intended to. The slight move brought unpleasant memories back with a vengeance. She sucked in a sharp breath from the twinge of pain, mostly from surprise, but Dakaar heard it and leaned away to investigate.

  His face went completely slack with surprise for a split second and then darkened with rage she hadn’t seen on his face before. He caught her chin between his thumb and forefinger and tipped her head up. His gaze moved over her face for several moments and then he shifted further away and lifted her arm. She winced. She couldn’t help it. Her wrist, elbow, and shoulder felt as if the joints had been twisted—which they had, when she was trying to fight the men off.

  He released her arm and sat up, pushing her garment up to look at her and then scanning her legs. Loren sat up to see what he was looking at and discovered she was black and blue all over from the attack. Dakaar found a row of small round bruises on her upper thigh and very lightly matched the tips of his finger to them.

  Loren met his gaze warily when he finally looked up at her again.

  “Dey do dis?” he demanded, his voice tight with rage.

  Loren blinked at him.

  “Dem mens?”

  Loren nodded uneasily, trying to decide if he was just angry because she’d been hurt or if he was angry because she’d been raped—angry with her. “I tried to fight them off.”

  His lips tightened. Abruptly, he swung his legs off the bed and sat up on the edge, staring at the floor between his legs. Loren studied him a moment and finally sat up and touched his back lightly. “Dakaar?”

  He shook his head and surged to his feet. “No can. Am angry.”

  She gaped at him in dismay when he stalked across the room toward the door, jumping all over when he slammed his fist into the wall so hard in made a round, fist-shaped dent. Relieved when he kept going, Loren settled back, still trying to decide if he was angry with her about it or just angry.

  Her throat closed as it slowly dawned on her that she had a lot worse problem than she’d realized. She’d been pregnant before the rape, but they were never going to believe that now.

  The bastard hadn’t even had the chance to finish and now she was going to be blamed because he’d tried and none of them were going to believe the baby was
theirs!

  * * * *

  Loren was too miserable to notice everybody else was until Karen broke down and cried all over her.

  They’d all met up in the control room for the bad news and the worse news. When the men had gone through the ship the day before to make certain there was no lurking threat and to gather whatever supplies they could, they’d discovered that the trader had had time to fully stock the ship while he was in port—but he’d only stocked supplies for himself since he only traveled with a robotic crew. The worse news was that the food he no doubt considered delicious wasn’t something any of them were going to be able to eat without forcing it down.

  The men had very carefully gone through the supplies and determined that they had enough to sustain everyone on board for a maximum of three months if they only ate one meal a day—half that if they ate two.

  The ‘good’ news was that there were people stowed in the pods on the third level that had obviously been destined for the slave market. They were being fed intravenously and, if worse came to worse, they could unplug the poor bastards and take their food.

  That being the case, Loren had told the computer to simply retrace the trader’s route backwards. None of them knew whether the ship could make it to the next port before they all starved because none of them understood the time frame the computer quoted to get to the port, but since the computer had also supplied them with the wonderful news that it was the closest they realized they didn’t have any choice. They had to go there and hope they could trade for food or hunt for food if that failed.

  Then the men had disappeared and left the bridge to the women.

  Loren couldn’t help but notice that not only would Dakaar not look directly at her, but neither Kael nor Balen would either. That made it unanimous and although her first reaction was anger that Dakaar had gone straight to the others and told them, she realized he hadn’t had to. She didn’t have anything to wear to hide the damned bruises and she’d managed to get enough of a look at her reflection to know her face looked almost worse than the rest of her body.

  “They hate me!” Karen wailed when she finally managed to catch her breath.