“Thank you.” She took a slate from him, turning it in her hands and examining it closely. “I’ve heard of this format before but have never held one in my hands until now.”
“It must be considered an antique in the world out there by now?” He chuckled.
“Well, yes. It is a severely outdated technology,” she admitted, then added quickly as though afraid to have hurt his feelings. “But it works, right? That’s what matters.”
“This one contains a fictional story from Hexol, the errocks’ world.” He pointed to the slate in her hands.
She’d mentioned she’d had a different opinion of errocks before her arrival on the Dark Anomaly. The group of them here were far from their home world, and not just geographically. He had accepted the fact that errocks, like all the other species here, had become the product of their environment. All of them have shed layers of civilization under the harsh conditions of life in the Anomaly.
The film he had chosen for Svetlana was a fictional story, but it contained hints of the raw violence he had witnessed in errocks over the years. The video would be possibly hard to watch for her at times, but he wanted Svetlana to have no illusions about what kind of people she now had to spend the rest of her life with. The more she knew, the more careful she would be, he hoped.
“Here are the documentaries on yourlu, ognats, errocks, and a few others. The largest groups we have here.”
He glanced at the red shelves by the entrance.
Crux had taken a tablet frame and was now selecting slates to watch by ordering the other two errocks to pull them off the shelves for him, in no apparent order.
Vrateus made a mental note to reorganize that section after them when he had a minute to spare later. Errocks didn’t know the themul alphabet to do it themselves. He doubted some of them knew any alphabet at all.
“Would you be interested in watching or reading about the mating habits of the various species?” he asked Svetlana, not entirely sure why.
Maybe, it would be good for her to know he hadn’t been exaggerating when he told her about the various ways the species here had sex.
Or maybe, he hoped she’d watch the video of the themul couple, too.
Maybe, he would have loved to know her reaction to it.
“Mating habits?” She followed his gaze to the red shelf. The errocks were leaning over the tablet in Crux’s hands. All three were snickering and elbowing each other. “No, thank you,” she blurted, a lovely shade of blush coloring her cheeks. “I think I’ve got enough here.” She tipped her chin at the stack of slates in his arms. “Enough to tide me over until the next visit. We’ll come here again, won’t we?” She lifted her questioning gaze to his, undisguised hope in her eyes.
There was no reason for another visit to the library. The purpose of today’s trip was to help her familiarize herself with the surroundings. Now, she knew the location of the library. He could exchange the slates for her, she didn’t need to leave her room for that.
Yet he found himself unable to extinguish the hopeful expression in her eyes.
“Yes. We’ll come here again if you want.”
Besides, he couldn’t deny himself the pleasure of having her here.
It was enjoyable to share this with someone like her, who appreciated the work he had done on the entire spectrum of the library, not just its red section.
Chapter 10
FOR A COUPLE OF DAYS after my visit to the library, I read and watched the info inserts.
Most of the species currently found on the Dark Anomaly came from the sections of the Galaxy farthest from Earth. They had travelled these parts during the early trading days of the Federation, and even before the Federation had been formed.
I found some clues on how they could have ended up here. After analyzing the data found on several ships of different species, I was beginning to believe that the gravity of the Anomaly lashed out, similar to a star’s flares, randomly grabbing whatever spaceships might be passing by.
This discovery was eerie and disturbing, but it made sense. That would explain how I ended up sucked in here, too.
The Dark Anomaly spun through space like a giant squid hiding in the depths of the ocean. It shot out its tentacles of gravity to drag ships and their crew to their deaths.
Except that not all were dying on impact with the edge of its disk. I’d survived, as had many others. What killed some of them here was the hopelessness afterwards. Those who survived gave up on civilization, plunging the community into a dark savage state.
While examining the charts and diagrams of the structural improvements done on the body of the Anomaly, I realized that all of it had been done in the past seven years, the same amount of time as Vrateus had been these people’s captain.
During this time, he had expanded the oxygen generating facility and improved the efficiency of the air filtration system, which allowed a much bigger portion of the Anomaly’s disk to be populated.
Under his leadership, the wrecks of the ships, haphazardly squished together after the many crashes, had been stabilized and secured to create this segment of the Anomaly—rugged and dented, but safe.
A while back, a cargo ship had crashed here with a load of live vasai, hideous giant centipedes. Their meat was rich in protein and other nutrients. Vasai had escaped the cargo hold after the crash and spread through the numerous tunnels within the Anomaly, hunting and being hunted by others.
By now, most of them had been captured and farmed, their meat and eggs being the principal source of protein for the crew. That allowed Vrateus to outlaw cannibalism, which apparently had been rampant before that.
Cold prickled my spine when I thought about what this place must have been like before Vrateus had brought some modicum of law and order. As wild and crude as it seemed today, it must have been truly feral and brutal before he had come to power.
My sixth morning on the Anomaly was the time of my next trip outside of my room.
Just like the last time, we left after breakfast. Vrateus took me in the direction opposite from the library this time, toward the mess hall.
An uncomfortable feeling scratched inside me as we neared that room. It was very noisy here, with some aliens loitering in the corridor by the entrance. The noise was coming from inside the mess hall—screams, grunts, and dull thuds of flesh hitting flesh.
It sounded like a fight.
I tensed, determined not to look inside, but then couldn’t help it and stole a glance as we walked by the entrance.
The mismatched chairs and tables had been shoved to the walls. The occupants of the Dark Anomaly gathered around the cleared space in the middle where two aliens fought. One was a burly humanoid with mottled purple skin and four arms that he sometimes used as legs, moving on all six of his limbs. He pounded with his ginormous fists through the air, occasionally landing a blow on his opponent, a giant black-and-yellow caterpillar with eight pairs of legs and a human-like head and torso.
Both appeared already severely beaten, with blood dripping from the cuts in the one’s purple skin and the other’s yellow-spotted black chitin.
Always on alert, Vrateus quickly scanned the room and its occupants. He then continued to walk by, not slowing his pace. My arm clamped in his hand, I quickly followed.
Crux threw a glance into the room over his shoulder.
“Krakhil will owe me a favor.” He spit through his teeth with a crooked smirk on his face. “Remoid is winning.”
“Have you made a bet?” I asked him. Despite my severe aversion to having Crux’s attention directed at me again, I was curious about the nature of the fight. Vrateus’s calm reaction to it told me he must have allowed it.
“I sure did.” Crux gave me one of his sliding-down-my-body stares that made me feel like taking a shower right after. “And I’ll collect on it tonight, it seems.”
His winnings had nothing to do with me. He was talking about whatever deal he had made with Krakhil. Still, the unpleasant feeling inside my c
hest grew stronger. I vowed never to make any deals or bets with Crux, even if my life depended on it.
We continued down the corridor.
“You allow fights and bets?” I asked Vrateus, keeping my voice down so our conversation would remain private.
“Yes,” he replied, looking straight ahead. “As long as they follow the rules.”
“What are the rules?”
“No weapons of any kind. No hitting below the belt. No blows that would intentionally lead to crippling injuries. The first to scream for mercy loses and stops the fight. Both the winner and the loser stay alive.”
“And they obey these rules?” I asked, sceptically.
He shrugged. “I keep all weapons locked away. They also know that if one of them is injured to the point he can’t do his chores, the other one will have to pick up the slack until the first one recovers enough to return to work. If the loser dies, I’ll punish the winner.”
“What is the punishment?”
“Death.”
“Is it always death?” Once again, I remembered him shooting one of his people for touching me on the day of my crash.
“Almost always. The threat of death is the most effective form of reinforcement I’ve found.”
“What if they repent their choices and promise not to disobey? Would you consider their remorse?” I was curious about the way of life here, so different from what I was used to.
“No.”
That sounded harsh.
“They don’t repent,” he explained. “There is never any genuine remorse.”
“Ever?” I found this unbelievable.
“They only regret getting caught. If I let them go unpunished, they’d do it again, only more cunningly.”
I contemplated his words for a moment as we walked around a bend in the corridor. A multicolored glow on the white paneling up ahead caught my eye. It was a reflection of the Anomaly lights, I realized. And it came from the window in the double-door on the outside wall.
An airlock.
My heart sped up with excitement.
Vrateus moved to turn into a hallway off the main corridor, but I stopped him.
“What is that way?” I gestured down the corridor, at the plain metal door past the glow on the wall.
“An equipment storage room. Beside it is the vasai farm, with the garbage sorting room at the back. Nothing of much interest. However, I’ll try to find some time to show it to you later, just so you know where everything is. Come, now.”
We turned into the short hallway to the right. It ended in a large arched entryway.
“Kitchen,” he announced.
Since he hadn’t released my arm, we walked in together.
This must be an older part of the Anomaly, an even more outdated ship. The walls here were made of weathered metal, their panels connected by double rows of rivets. The room was almost as large as the mess hall, with a higher ceiling that made it look even bigger. The semicircle of a metal countertop surrounded a huge flameless stove with two enormous pots bubbling hot on it.
About a dozen aliens mingled about, not appearing to be doing anything. It wasn’t immediately clear who was in charge here or what exactly was going on.
“Captain.” A male who looked like a bipedal cross between a rhino and a hippo covered by brick-colored plating, lifted one of his four giant hands in greeting. Some of the others in the room followed, making the same gesture. “The water is boiling.”
“Taste it,” Vrateus ordered.
Leading me to the counter, he finally let go of my arm but remained close. The rhino-hippo cross gave me a curious look that quickly turned into a leer.
I briefly considered if I should say anything in greeting but changed my mind, growing increasing uncomfortable under his stare. It lingered on every part of my body without ever moving higher than my neck.
“Is she here to give us a show?” a smaller alien asked. Sitting on the counter top, he reached with one of his many tentacles into a large jar next to him then smeared the grease from the jar over the fuzzy tuff of hair on the very top of his head, slicking it down.
“No,” Vrateus bit off, not glancing at the tentacled alien. “She is here to supervise the food preparation.”
It was weird to hear them talk about me in the third person in my presence. However, the last thing I wanted to do was to bring any extra attention to myself. At the moment, I preferred to be invisible, so I kept silent.
“Is that going to be her task from now on?” the larger one asked, perking up.
“Today, it is.” Vrateus tipped his chin at one of the pots. “Taste it, I said.”
The big alien dipped a large metal spoon into the pot then swallowed its boiling-hot contents without flinching.
Vrateus met his questioning look with a nod.
“Good. Go ahead with the stew, now.”
“What was that for?” I quietly asked Vrateus as he closely watched the rhino alien collect some roughly chopped things off the counter and toss them into the pot.
“I make sure no one adds fuhnid mushroom juice to the food. It’s extremely poisonous.”
“Why would anyone want to do it, then?”
“Mostly, to poison me,” he replied calmly. “But some would gladly use the mushrooms against others who might have pissed them off during the day—not paid after losing a bet, or for anything, really. Life is cheap around here.”
“Do many want to harm you?”
The thoughts about Vrateus suffering from paranoia came back to me. Surely, even these brutes could see how much he had improved life around here. Didn’t they appreciate him taking all of this work upon himself? I saw no reason for his crew wanting to get rid of him.
“Most.” He shrugged a shoulder. “Maybe all.”
“But why?” It made no sense.
“These individuals thrive in anarchy. They fiercely detest the order I’ve been imposing.” He exhaled a brief, humorless laugh. “The only reason I’ve remained their captain for this long is because their dislike for any kind of organization prevents them from organizing against me.”
The rhino alien took a blob of the substance from the same jar the tentacled one had used to slick down the fuzz on his head. He sniffed at it, then tossed it into the pot.
My stomach lurched at the sight. The earthy smell waffling from the pot was the same as the stew I’d eaten many times since my arrival.
“This is made for everyone?” I asked Vrateus. “It’s the communal food, isn’t it? Everyone eats the same?”
“Yes. The food is cooked once a day. Krakhil,” he addressed the rhino chef. “Taste the second pot, now.”
Krakhil unhurriedly obliged. Upon Vrateus’s approval, he then tossed several ingredients into the second pot.
A loud screeching sound suddenly cut through the room. A group of males hauled in something large and terrifying from a side door.
It was a live creature. About six or seven feet long and probably at least a foot in diameter, it had several long skinny legs on each side of its body and a cluster of round eyes on the top of its flat head. With ear-splitting squeals, it struggled against the hold of four aliens, two of them dragging it by its claw-like mandibles.
I sucked in a breath in horror, leaning back against the counter.
“What is that?”
“Vasai.” Vrateus stepped forward as two of the males dragging the creature yanked at one mandible each, cracking the centipede’s head in half. Its long body contracted with its last convulsions then dropped motionless to the floor, a milky substance gushing out of the wound.
“This is just...” I gripped my throat as my stomach churned with nausea.
Staring at the horrific scene in front of me, I hadn’t notice that something was slinking around my thigh, inching in between my legs.
Revulsion shot through me when I realized it was one of the tentacles of the greasy alien on the counter. He met my glare with a smirk. One of his other tentacles moved jerkily somewhere inside
the cluster of the rest of them.
“Get away from me,” I hissed, ripping the slimy tentacle off my leg, but not fast enough. Glancing over his shoulder, Vrateus saw what was happening. Not saying a word, he threw his right arm up, a gun sliding smoothly out of his sleeve.
The gunshot echoed through the room, the bright flash blinding me for a moment. When I opened my eyes, my offender dropped to the floor with a squishing wet sound. A round hole gaped in his head, the smirk frozen on his face.
“Oh God...” I stepped back, away from the purple liquid from his wound pooling on the floor. “You didn’t need to do that...”
The group of males by the dead vasai centipede paused for a fraction of a moment at the sound of the shot. They then resumed butchering the dead creature by ripping its body to pieces with their teeth and claws. Krakhil threw the pieces they hurled his way into the pots.
“Can I toss Qen in the stew, too?” he pointed with his chin at his dead buddy, eyeing the tentacles sprawling on the floor.
“No.” Vrateus sent his gun back into his sleeve. “Incinerate the body and send the ashes to Malahki for the garden.”
Circling my arm with his long fingers, he then led me out of the room.
“SORRY ABOUT YOUR MAN,” I said, still shaken by the incident in the kitchen as we returned to my room.
“Qen disobeyed my direct order. He was aware of the consequences,” he replied grimly.
It was the second murder committed by Vrateus that I had witnessed. Both times, he acted swiftly and without reservations. Yet I could tell that killing his people was difficult for him.
“Why did Qen still do it then? If he knew you would kill him?”
Sliding the set of black claws out of the tips of his fingers, Vrateus raked them through his fur over the tattoos above his ears.
“Qen was hoping not to get caught,” he explained.
“That wasn’t very smart on his part.”
Gravity (Dark Anomaly Book 1) Page 8
