Planet of Pain

by B. A. Bradbury

  Bel’s tapping changed instantly: h-a-n-g… i-n… t-h-e-r-e. Such a simple ploy, yet utterly foolproof. Bel was a genius. Now they could converse without worrying about being monitored.

  ‘It could have been a lot worse, I suppose,’ Bel said. ‘The probe, I mean. Did you get a good look at the buttons on the box the sergeant was holding?’ Jo shook her head. ‘They were labelled one to ten,’ Bel went on, ‘yet the highest they used was five. It seems the major is concerned for our welfare, though I can’t imagine why.’

  Her fingers tapped again: o-r-d-e-r-s. She was saying Tucker had instructions to go easy on them. Jo sent back a query: w-h-o, and Bel responded in turn with a simple negative. She didn’t know. Neither did Jo, but she was deeply grateful to him, or them, whoever it was. The interrogation was bad enough, but if Bel was right about the buttons it could have been very much worse.

  A loud banging woke Jo as someone hammered on the cage door. Startled and bewildered she rolled over, tangling with Bel in the process.

  ‘Wake up, lovebirds. Officer on deck.’

  They extricated themselves and got to their feet. Jo had no idea how long they had been asleep, but it hadn’t been long enough. She felt muzzy and stupid, and Bel looked little better.

  Major Tucker was standing there looking like the cat who ate the canary, and with him were Sergeant Clemens and the same two troopers. Bel let out a soft groan of dismay.

  ‘Soon comes round again, doesn’t it?’ Tucker said smugly.

  Bel shook her head in despair. ‘Why do you persist with this, major? You know we’re telling the truth.’

  ‘Do I?’ he said. ‘I may have thought so once; now I’m not so sure.’ Bel started to say something, but the words never came. She regarded the major warily. ‘It’s academic anyway,’ he said with a negligent wave of the hand. ‘We’ll find out soon enough. Sergeant, take O’Donnell to the interrogation room. We’ll let Franklin stew awhile.’

  ‘Wait,’ Bel said. ‘If you have to take somebody take me.’

  ‘Patience, captain,’ Tucker said. ‘Your turn will come.’

  Clemens keyed open the door and the troopers moved in and took hold of Jo. She went quietly, having learned the futility of resisting them. They led her along the passageway and Jo felt an awful sense of isolation. It had been bad enough before, but at least she and Bel were in it together. Now, for the first time since their capture, she was on her own.

  Once in the interrogation room Major Tucker looked on with undisguised relish as the others put her in the chair and strapped her down. When the men stepped back he approached.

  ‘She’s wrong, you know,’ he said, ‘your bosom buddy. I have no concern whatsoever for your welfare. None at all.’

  So the brig was bugged, as they’d guessed all along; and Tucker for one had been listening in.

  He rested his hand on her stomach, and the muscles knotted tight. He began to rub her belly, spiralling in till it was just the tip of his finger circling her navel. ‘An hour ago I may have done,’ he added carelessly, ‘but all that’s changed.’

  The hand moved lower, and she shivered. He pushed his first and second fingers inside her, then proceeded to work them slowly in and out. Jo moaned in consternation.

  ‘It means I don’t get to fuck you,’ he said, ‘which is a pity; but such is life. Duty comes before personal aspirations. It does with me, at least.’

  She got the feeling he was speaking to the hidden microphones rather than to her, trying to impress whoever was listening. Off to one side Sergeant Clemens cleared his throat, as if wishing to remind the major of something – perhaps that time was passing. Tucker glanced at him and withdrew his fingers almost guiltily.

  ‘Right,’ he said briskly, ‘let’s get this show on the road.’

  ‘What level, major?’ the sergeant asked, picking up the control box.

  ‘We’ll start her at seven and go up from there.’

  Jo gave a horrified gasp, and Tucker smiled coldly. ‘What, you were expecting five again? Haven’t you been paying attention? As I said, things have changed.’ He proceeded to pull on a pair of thin rubber gloves, then with the thumb and index finger of his left hand he spread her labia, and she knew he intended to begin with her clitoris.

  ‘Wait,’ she said hoarsely.

  ‘For what?’ he sneered.

  His right hand reached for the baton. Something pinged and the major swore under his breath. He unclipped the communicator from his belt and raised it to his lips. ‘Tucker.’ There was a pause while he listened. His eyebrows arched and he glanced at Jo, his face unreadable. ‘Yes, sir,’ he said. ‘Yes, I see. That’s excellent news.’ There was another pause, longer than the first, his left hand not moved, still holding her vulva open. ‘Right away, colonel,’ he said, returned the communicator to his belt, pursed his lips, and then took his hand away.

  ‘We’re recalled,’ he said to Sergeant Clemens. ‘Get her back to her cell and then go to your stations. And don’t loiter; we burn in six minutes.’

  He hurried out and things suddenly became ridiculously hectic. Her straps were unfastened in record time and she was yanked unceremoniously from the chair and dragged at a run back to the brig. They pushed her into her original cell, next but one to Bel, ran for the exit, and even as the cage door was closing a siren started to sound.

  ‘Brace for accel!’ Jo yelled over the noise. They dropped quickly onto their mats and hooked their fingers through the steel mesh. The siren cut and there was utter silence. Hectic to dead calm in just a heartbeat; and Jo could finally give thanks to the cosmic gods for her last second reprieve.

  ‘Did they say how hard a burn?’ Bel asked.

  ‘No, they didn’t tell me anything. We’re in the dark, sorry.’

  ‘Situation normal, then.’

  ‘All fucked up,’ Jo added, completing the age-old spacer’s lament.

  Seconds later the push came and Jo estimated it at around five-g; a hard enough burn by any standards, and doubly testing for limbs and joints already sore. At this rate of accel the ship would achieve jump velocity in minutes. They waited it out in silence, trying to relax as best they could.

  The familiar gut-wrenching lurch came right on cue, followed by oblivion. Jo had just started to come around when down she went again. Definitely, she thought as she slid under for a second time, the bastards were in a hurry…

  Coming to after the double jump was far from pleasant, but when the all clear sounded Jo made herself sit up and focus. There was something she needed to tell Bel, but she couldn’t remember what it was.

  ‘Are you okay?’ Bel asked, while Jo was still trying to get her brain into gear. ‘Did they hurt you?’

  ‘No, the announcement came before he got started.’

  ‘Lucky.’

  ‘Yes.’ She had it now. ‘Listen, Major Tucker said they were being recalled.’

  ‘Right,’ Bel said in a guarded tone.

  Jo hadn’t forgotten about the microphones, but there wasn’t a lot she could do about them. If they’d been in the same cell they could have used Morse, but they weren’t.

  ‘I don’t think they were expecting it,’ she said, determined to make her point.

  ‘Okay,’ Bel said tersely, obviously not wanting to discuss it openly. ‘How are you feeling generally? Hurting?’

  ‘I’m okay,’ Jo said. ‘Well, reasonably okay, anyway.’ In actual fact she was sore inside and out, but making a big deal about it wasn’t going to change anything.

  ‘Really?’ Bel said. ‘You must be pretty tough, then. I feel like my insides have been ripped out, minced, fried in hot fat and stuffed back in again.’

  Jo felt a little of the tension leave her. If Bel could joke about it, the situation couldn’t be all that bad… could it?

  Chapter 5

  Perhaps two hours later Sergeant Clemens and the
troopers came into the brig.

  ‘Out you come, ladies,’ the sergeant said. ‘I’ve been ordered to give you the five cent tour.’

  ‘What’s the five cent tour?’ Bel asked.

  ‘Showers, sickbay and mess, in that order. Let’s go.’

  ‘Do we get our clothes back, or do you plan on parading us through the ship stark naked?’

  ‘What do you think?’ Clemens replied with a grin.

  And that was precisely what he did, the presence in the corridors of two naked females drawing whistles and ribald comments aplenty from the men they passed. Bel seemed unperturbed; casting scornful looks at the lot of them, while Jo – cheeks burning with embarrassment – trailed along in her wake trying not to cringe.

  The shower was fantastic: hot water, lots of soap, and no queuing! They dried themselves under the blowers, and then it was time to run the gauntlet once more as they made their way to the sickbay, where they were given gowns and slippers to wear, after which a doctor examined them. He declared they were suffering from first-degree burns, and proceeded to spray the affected areas – internal and external – with a milky liquid.

  ‘What’s in the witches brew, doc?’ Bel asked.

  ‘Local anaesthetic, antibiotic, and a tissue regeneration enhancer,’ came the reply. ‘You’ll be good as new in no time.’

  ‘Thanks,’ she said, ‘but why the sudden concern for our well-being? One minute they’re torturing us and the next… this.’

  ‘I’m just the medical officer,’ he said. ‘You think they tell me anything? It seems reasonable to assume, however, that someone wants you fit and well.’

  Whatever the reason the treatment worked wonders, and Jo was almost pain free as they headed for their final destination. The doctor said they could keep the gowns, to the obvious disappointment of the troopers in the mess. Word had evidently spread, for the place was packed, and despite the feeding-time-at-the-zoo feeling, Jo tucked into the surprisingly good ship’s rations with gusto, suddenly ravenous. Then with the meal over they were on the move once more, into an elevator.

  ‘Where to now?’ Bel asked as they started to descend.

  ‘Now,’ the sergeant said, ‘we kick your Reiver asses off the ship.’

  Jo assumed he was joking, then she saw his face and realised he was serious. Bel clearly thought so too, for she gave him a sharp look.

  ‘Where are they sending us?’ she asked.

  ‘I guess you’ll find out when you get there, won’t you?’

  The elevator deposited them at an access hatch, which was already open. Through it Jo could see an illuminated umbilical. They were at the ship’s hull, she realised, and the umbilical led to a second ship riding alongside Dauntless.

  ‘It’s an unmanned shuttle,’ Clemens said. ‘There’s no simgrav, so stay belted-in till you’re docked. Flight time twelve minutes, give or take. You’ll be met at the other end.’

  They went on through. Bel was quiet as they strapped themselves in, no doubt pondering this latest development. Takehold sounded and the cabin lurched; and the next second they were in freefall.

  They spent the short flight in silence, each busy with her own thoughts. Jo’s weren’t too comfortable, truth to tell. Though it was a great relief to be leaving Dauntless, what lay ahead might be just as bad, or – heaven help them – even worse. She didn’t doubt for a second there were plenty of men like Major Tucker amongst the League forces, and with that unhappy thought foremost in her mind the takehold sounded once more, and the shuttle clanged into dock.

  As Clemens had said there were guards waiting through the hatch. One, a corporal, checked off their names against a list on his panel, then produced a pair of slender silver rings, six inches or so in diameter. ‘Know what these are?’ he asked.

  The two women shook their heads. Bel was looking at the things warily, which made Jo uneasy, though they seemed innocent enough. The corporal fiddled with a catch and opened one of them up.

  ‘Relax,’ he said, noting their expressions, ‘they’re just security devices.’ He fastened the rings around their necks, and one of his colleagues put out a call.

  ‘Station two here. Activate the collars for Franklin and O’Donnell.’

  There were two beeps in fairly quick succession, and Jo saw a tiny red light now glowed on the front of Bel’s ring. Her own presumably showed the same.

  ‘They have inbuilt tracking devices,’ the corporal said, ‘so we can find you anytime, anywhere. There’s an explosive filament inside, too, and anti-tamper devices. Try removing them while they’re activated and… boom!’

  Jo felt cold all over knowing she had a bomb around her throat, but there was precious little she could do about it.

  ‘They can be triggered remotely, too,’ the corporal said. ‘Try to run and—’

  ‘We know,’ Bel said. ‘Boom.’

  ‘Don’t forget it.’

  He escorted them to an assembly area where they saw a dozen or so women sitting on fold-down benches along the wall. They were dressed in a mishmash of clothing – coveralls, smocks, even a uniform or two – and all wore silver collars. Two sergeants in League black were standing next to them.

  ‘Franklin and O’Donnell, sarge,’ the corporal reported.

  ‘Okay,’ one of the sergeants said, checking off their names on his own panel. ‘You two, find a seat and keep your mouths shut.’

  They sat down and waited. No one spoke, and every woman avoided eye contact with her neighbours.

  Jo was sharing a bench with Bel and a young woman with cropped dark hair and a small flower tattoo – a red rose – on her cheek. After a while Jo realised this person was surreptitiously sliding closer, so that eventually they were shoulder to shoulder. The young woman was watching the sergeants, and the instant their backs were turned she leaned closer still.

  ‘Have you seen my husband?’ she whispered. ‘His name’s Benedikt Vesely, but everybody calls him Ben. He’s tall, with light-brown hair. They took him away with the other—’

  ‘You again?’ the first sergeant snapped, his head whipping round. ‘Just shut the fuck up, Vesely!’

  The woman shot him a terrified look and sidled away again. Bel nudged Jo in the ribs, and she turned and saw the corporal approaching with another female prisoner. With a shock she realised it was Linda, a pilot in their squadron. Linda looked around at the faces of the other prisoners, and her eyes fastened on Bel and Jo. She gave a curt nod of recognition but didn’t seem overly surprised to see them there.

  ‘This is Kepler, sarge,’ the corporal said. ‘She’s the last, right?’

  ‘That’s right,’ the sergeant said. ‘Secure the hatch and dismiss the men.’

  The corporal nodded and left. The sergeant turned to face them.

  ‘All of you, on your feet. Form a line here, in front of me.’ He waited till they had formed up and he had everyone’s attention. ‘All right, listen up. My name is Sergeant Vaughan, and this is Sergeant Quinn. You, however, will address us as “sir”. Anyone here have a problem with that?’

  ‘Yes, I do,’ a woman called out. ‘I’m a major in the New Worlds Alliance, and the day I call a sergeant sir is the day they open a beach resort on Neptune.’

  Vaughan checked his panel. ‘Nina Reyes, right?’

  ‘That’s right… sergeant.’

  ‘Well, listen and learn, Reyes. Your rank means zero here. Aboard this ship you’ll—’

  ‘I repeat,’ she cut in coldly, ‘I’m a major—’

  ‘And if I were you,’ the sergeant said firmly, ‘I wouldn’t keep bragging about it, unless you’ve a hankering to know what an elbow-deep anal fisting feels like. We have guys here who would just love to get a major on her back, trust me. And this is the last time I remind you to address me as “sir”.’

  The major didn’t look any happier, but at least she had the se
nse to hold her tongue. Vaughan stared at her a second or two longer, and then cast his eyes over the rest of them.

  ‘Make no mistake,’ he said, ‘when I say “on your back”, that’s precisely what I mean. You’ve been brought here for one reason and one reason only: to fuck. This is the troop carrier Eridani, and we have close to nine hundred officers and enlisted men onboard. They’re fresh from combat and they haven’t set eyes on a woman in seven months, except maybe through a gun sight, so naturally they’re all eager as hell to make your acquaintance. They’re even prepared to overlook the fact you’re Alliance riffraff, that’s how romantic they’re feeling. Reyes, you look like you want to say something.’

  ‘I do, sir. Speaking for myself, I can’t tell you how flattered I am that nine hundred horny guys want to get into my pants. My knees are weak just thinking about it. But maybe not every woman here feels the same. What if someone doesn’t like the idea of a mega-fuck?’

  ‘I’m not asking you to like it, Reyes,’ Vaughan said, ignoring the sarcasm, ‘I’m just telling you what’s going to happen. Enjoy it, don’t enjoy it; that’s entirely up to you, just so long as you do it, okay?’

  Major Reyes seemed far from placated, but her only response was to shake her head and stare at the sergeant in disgust.

  ‘So,’ he went on, ‘this is how it works. The ship operates a two-shift system and so will you, twelve hours on and twelve off. You’ll spend the bulk of your on-duty hours – ten, to be precise – in one of Eridani’s three hundred cabins. The ship’s computer selects the cabin number at random, and it doesn’t discriminate between officers and enlisted men. Share and share alike is the rule in the Solar League, and that extends to the use of you lot. Each officer has a cabin to himself, enlisted men bunk in fours. Do I need to spell out what that means?’

  There were uncertain looks on the faces of some of his audience, Jo’s being one.

  ‘Seems I do,’ he said. ‘Okay, what it means is that if the computer picks an officer’s cabin, you’ll spend ten hours with him. If it picks an enlisted man’s cabin you’ll spend ten hours with the four guys who share it. You all following this? They’ll share you too, is what I’m saying, to hurry the whole process along. Sixteen of you, nine hundred of them; you do the math. And I’m betting a year’s pay Nina Reyes wants to come in at this point.’