Slave Empire - Prophecy

by T C Southwell

Rayne tensed when the door opened to admit the Shrike, who moved with his usual unhurried grace. After a good supper, she had slept well and woken refreshed. Since her nights were not in sync with the planet’s, dawn had not yet broken, and she had filled the time watching an entertainment vidfilm, nibbling on snacks. If anything, her prison was more comfortable than Tallyn’s house. The large, millimetre-thick crystal screen on which the vidfilm played went black and slid back into its socket, and Rayne frowned.

  “Come.” He indicated that she should precede him through the door. She put down her packet of snack bits, the alien equivalent of crisps, and rose to approach him. As she stepped into the corridor, the crazy urge to run took hold, but the sensation was short lived; such an action was foolhardy and doomed from the outset. The prospect of discovering her fate cheered her somewhat as she strode ahead of him.

  “Where are we going?” she asked.

  “Just for a walk; I thought you’d like to see the base, get some fresh air, and stretch your legs.”

  A tart retort leapt onto her tongue, but she bit it back. It would be foolish and prideful to scorn his effort to make her comfortable, to say nothing of churlish and ungrateful. Instead, she gazed around at the scenery. People, whom she assumed were slaves, since they all wore flexible black metallic collars, bowed to him as he passed, smiling. Most were Atlantean, but some had alien features and a few were truly unusual. They left the building, and he led her to a sleek gravcar. Dawn tinged the dome with delicate pink as the sun neared the horizon, brightening the sky outside. She found the car’s confines uncomfortable, acutely aware of the man beside her.

  The Shrike guided the car along a smooth black street towards the growing light, passing buildings where people were just starting the day’s work. They approached the edge of the dome, and he steered the vehicle onto a grassy area bordered by flowering trees. He parked it and climbed out, waiting for her to join him. Standing beside him, she gazed out through the clear barrier, enthralled by the desert’s beauty.

  After a few minutes, the sun touched the horizon with a line of liquid gold, then rose in a blaze of glory as the dust that flew in the bitter wind turned the sky into a medley of red, yellow, magenta and pink. The scant clouds were painted with the wonderful reflections of these colours, a paler counterpoint to the masterpiece. The huge orb of the magnified sun blazed at the centre, a great gold coin rising over the horizon.

  “Beautiful, isn’t it?” the Shrike murmured.

  Rayne nodded, unable to speak. The brilliant rays turned the desert into a blazing golden platter; a gilded anvil that belied the cold that seeped through the dome.

  “Even the most hostile environment has its beauty. I’m sure you’ve never seen such a glorious sunrise,” he commented.

  “No, I haven’t.”

  “It’s hard to imagine people living out there, isn’t it?”

  “Do they?”

  “Yes. A few hundred lost, scarred souls, too hostile to live in a normal environment anymore.”

  Rayne went over to the low wall and leant on it. She wondered what kind of people would live in the golden desert with its swirling dust. “How do they live out there?”

  The Shrike clasped his hands behind his back. “I give them food and water.”

  “Why don’t they live here, with the others?”

  “They can’t.” He turned his head towards her, and apparently noticed her puzzled look. “You would never understand. You’re an innocent in a cruel universe. You have no idea what goes on.”

  “So tell me.”

  “No. You’ll find out, but not from me.”

  Rayne swung away, angered by his refusal to explain even this. He watched the sunrise until the colours faded, then returned to the gravcar. She followed, sitting beside him with a shiver. He seemed unaware of her discomfort, although he ensured no contact was made. He touched the controls, and the car rose.

  The Shrike took her on a tour of the city, pointing out the agriculture and the rig that pumped water from far beneath the planet’s crust. Workers’ houses lined the roads in residential suburbs, each surrounded by a little patch of flowering greenery. Rayne wondered why he spent so much time with a slave, but knew she would not get an answer if she asked him. Thoughts of escape still plagued her, but even if she could get out of the dome, she would perish in the desert. The more she pondered the problem, the larger it grew, and even escaping from the dome was sure to be almost impossible.

  At noon, they returned to the apartment, where the Shrike ordered lunch from the dewy-eyed slave girl who cleaned it. She appeared to be Atlantean, a lower caste with almost monotone brown hair and dark green eyes, her skin a dusky gold and her figure willowy. She smiled at him with such blatant flirtation that Rayne was embarrassed for the girl’s sake, but when the slave glanced at Rayne her eyes became icy.

  Rayne waited for her to leave before turning to her captor. “Your slave seems rather hostile. Does she think I’m going to replace her or something? Is she afraid of being sold?”

  “Slave? Oh, I see. No. Nothing like that. She might be jealous. A lot of them are somewhat possessive.”

  “Jealous? Of you?” She laughed. “How can they be jealous of a man who hides behind a mask? A man who is their master?”

  He stalked over to the bar and poured a drink. “I don’t know.”

  Rayne was delighted to have found something that made him uncomfortable, eager for a way to avenge her humiliation at his hands. “So you think your female slaves are in love with you? You must have an enormous ego.” She giggled, but her amusement vanished when he strode over to her, making her step back in surprise and trepidation.

  “You would never understand,” he said. “You may be innocent – perhaps too innocent – but you’re also ignorant.”

  The Shrike thrust a glass at her, and she took it with trembling hands, unable to stem her reaction to his angry proximity. Her heart slowed as he moved away and sat on the sofa, and she took several deep breaths to calm herself. A gulp of the liquid in her glass made her cough, surprised by its alcohol content. He turned his head towards her as he lifted his glass to the region of his mouth.

  Rayne stared, fascinated, as a hinged portion of the mask allowed the glass to touch hidden lips. After a pause, she sat opposite him, uncertain of what to say. His sudden anger had sent her hard-won confidence scuttling into a dark corner of her mind, leaving her timid and unsure. An uncomfortable silence ensued, which the re-entry of the serving girl with lunch broke. The Shrike seemed to watch her, and must have noticed the chilly glance she shot Rayne.

  After the maid left, he poured the wine and passed Rayne a plate of roast pseudo-fowl and steamed vegetables, leaving her to stew in her curiosity. He slid aside a portion of the mask to eat, but the darkness within was too deep for her to glimpse anything. About halfway through the meal, he asked about her life on Earth, and appeared to be interested in her stories. After several tales, she decided to see if he would respond in kind.

  “Why did you rescue me from the store guards, that day on Earth, and why didn’t you capture me then?”

  “I wasn’t there looking for slaves or booty. I was just curious, and stopped over for a few hours. I pitied your people, but I didn’t want to interfere. I admit, I was tempted to take you away from that terrible place, but I wasn’t sure how you’d react. Some people prefer to die with their world. Saving an intelligent being isn’t the same as rescuing a starving Versar kitten. That awful place might have unhinged you, or the shock of being taken from your world might have driven you mad.

  “I didn’t want to be responsible for that, and my ship wasn’t equipped for acclimatising or decontaminating aliens. The environment you lived in was pretty hostile. It gave me a nasty rash, even though I was only in it for a few minutes. I did you a small favour, which I hoped would help you, but I couldn’t do more than that. Besides, the place was getting crowded, and the Atlantean ship was coming dangerously close to detecting mine.”


  “You were lucky they didn’t see you. They had me under surveillance,” she commented.

  “If they’d been watching, they’d have done something about it if they wanted to collect you. I watched the chase for several minutes before I intervened. I hoped you’d escape on your own.”

  She smiled. “When you appeared in front of me, I thought you were an autocrat.”

  “Tell me about them.”

  Rayne obliged while she ate her lunch, whose flavour was far superior even to the finest meal on Atlan. The Shrike appeared to be interested, made a few comments and asked questions. Her longing to see his face redoubled as she talked, for she could only guess at his mood, other than polite interest. She wanted to ask him again to remove it, but sensed that he would not.

  As soon as the flirtatious slave girl cleared away their empty plates, he left without explanation, only saying that he would see her later. She seethed inwardly at the unwelcome reminder that she was only a slave and unworthy of any kind of excuse, to be left alone when he felt like it, with no concern for her feelings. Her anger set her once more upon her endeavour to escape, and she set to picking the door lock with a thin-bladed knife she had purloined from the lunch table. She prised open the panel beside the door, but the mass of crystals and wires within it confounded her. She prodded it with the knife, hoping to hit the right short circuit, but only succeeded in giving herself a nasty shock.

  Rayne was nursing her tingling hand and glaring at the ruined panel when the Shrike returned.

  He noticed the damaged panel. “So, you’ve been busy again. Did you hurt yourself?”

  She scowled at him. “I’ll live. Do you think I’m just going to sit here and do nothing?”

  “You won’t have to do that for much longer.”

  Her blood turned cold. “You’re going to collar me.”

  “No. How many times do I have to tell you?”

  “Slaves usually get collared, don’t they?”

  “Usually.”

  “So why should I expect anything different?”

  He made a sound of disgust and swung away, sinking onto a chair. “No reason, I suppose. Anyway, you’re going to get your wish. I’m going to sell you. The sale’s been set up. It will take place within the next few hours.”

  The news dismayed and terrified Rayne, and she sat opposite as her legs shook. For some insane reason, perhaps because he had been so evasive before, she had not expected this. She fought a strong urge to beg him not to, her emotions conflicted. Her sale offered a slight hope of rescue, unless her next owner turned out to be the killer Drevina had hoped for. At least the Shrike did not seem to be such a person, yet she had asked to be sold.

  “This is what you wanted, isn’t it?” he asked.

  “No! I want to go back to Atlan.”

  He nodded. “Of course, but that’s not an option. You’ll be quite safe, I assure you.”

  “How would you know? Once I’m sold, anything might happen to me.”

  “You wanted me to sell you.”

  “I’ve changed my mind. I’d rather stay with you. At least you’re not a psychopathic killer, or so you say.”

  “I might have lied,” he pointed out. “You also know the Atlanteans have a better chance of finding you if I keep you, don’t you?” She shrugged, and he continued, “Which is exactly why I have to sell you. I don’t need the aggravation. You’ll be safe, I promise. As soon as you’re sold, I’ll contact Tallyn and tell him who’s got you, then he can rescue you.”

  She raised her eyebrows, a stab of bitterness spoiling her joy. “That would be generous of you, if you weren’t so obviously killing two birds with one stone. You make a profit and destroy a rival at the same time. A neat plan.”

  “What makes you think it’s a rival and not a customer? How do you know I’m not just doing this to throw Tallyn off my trail? Or maybe even to help you, as I did on Earth?”

  She hesitated. “If you only want to help me, why don’t you just let me go?”

  “I must admit, I do want my money back. But passing the information to Tallyn is to help you.”

  “And to get him off your trail.”

  He shrugged. “That too. But my reasons are irrelevant. The end result will be the same. You’ll be returned to Atlan.”

  “Unless you’re lying, or your rival decides to kill me before Tallyn can save me.”

  “Are all humans so pessimistic and suspicious?”

  “I have my reasons,” she said.

  “Yes, I suppose you do. I debated the wisdom of telling you anything. Perhaps I shouldn’t have. The damage is done, I suppose.”

  “You’re a cold bastard, aren’t you? You don’t care what happens to me. I hope Tallyn does find you. I hope he kills you. In fact, I’ll do all I can to help him.”

  The Shrike tilted his head, as if considering her, but she sensed no hint of his mood. She regretted her words, and wished she could call them back. Apart from the fact that she did not want him to be killed, for reasons she did not care to contemplate, her threat also gave him every reason to ensure she could not help Tallyn. Not that she could do much, other than describe the world on which he had his base, but arid planets around yellow dwarf suns were common.

  For some reason, his decision to sell her was hurtful, yet she did not understand why. Her confusion brought a wave of homesickness and self-pity, mixed with an unhealthy dose of shame at her worthlessness. A logical voice demanded to know why she would imagine a man like the Shrike, an alien, an outlaw and a slaver, would care about someone like her, but it did not salve her emotional reaction.

  Two tears escaped down her cheeks, and she scrubbed them away. The Shrike rose and strode to the door. He paused there as if to say something, then left.

  Rayne rubbed her eyes, her emotional turmoil now including anger and embarrassment at her show of weakness. She went to splash her face in the bathroom, then returned to sit in the lounge and contemplate her future. If the Shrike kept his word, she would soon be back on Atlan and reunited with Rawn. If not, she could face any number of horrors. She regretted her ill-advised threat now, and resolved to take it back when next she saw him.