“I’ll think about it,” Trin had said at last. “I promise I’ll give your idea careful consideration.”
“Thank you,” Sidna said. “But don’t think too long, Trin—the crew is growing restless.”
Trin thought about it now—thought long and hard. Maybe she should just let him go. He was angry and dangerous and huge and muscular and male. He didn’t belong aboard The Alacrity. It was like trying to keep an exotic pet in an environment that wasn’t good for it.
No, I should stop thinking of him as a pet. That’s one reason he got so mad in the first place. She sighed. Maybe it would be best to just let him go. There were four life pods attached to the ship and they only really needed three of them to evacuate everyone. She could simply give him one and let him go where he wanted.
The life pods had been designed to survive long stretches of time in deep space and they all had stocks of dehydrated food spheres—provided he had a rudimentary knowledge of flying and knew how to navigate wormholes, he could go pretty much anywhere he wanted.
That’s what I ought to do, she thought. Just let him go his own way. He’s never going to play the roll I need him to—Sidna is right, he’s a dangerous liability. All right…when I get back from the Devil’s Eye, I’ll do it.
Her heart was heavy as she made the decision and not because losing the Havoc meant she’d basically flushed fifty thousand credits down the drain. Somehow, the idea of loosing Thrace was like a weight on her heart. It didn’t make any sense but somehow she’d allowed herself to grow fond of the big Havoc. So fond that the idea of never seeing him again made her eyes sting and her throat grow tight.
Don’t be an idiot, she lectured herself, swiping angrily at her damp eyes. He’s just a failed experiment. An idea that didn’t pan out. Next time maybe you’ll think harder before you sink credits into a scheme.
She straightened up and took a deep breath. It was time to stop dwelling on the problems with her troublesome Havoc and start concentrating on her strategy for getting in and out of the Demon’s Eye in one piece tomorrow. And after she got in and out with the Jaxite, how she was going to sell it without a male body-slave to help her. Well, maybe she could try to hire one for a few days from somewhere although she was afraid the Yonnite mistresses would spot a fake…
I’ll figure it out, Trin told herself. I have to. For now, one step at the time. First I have to get the Jaxite to sell.
The Alacrity was in the Delta-Xion quadrant now—a couple million light years from home, thanks to her navigator’s extensive knowledge of stable wormholes. A few more hours travel would take them to the Demon’s Doorstep—the planet the notorious space station orbited. Trin needed to be ready when they got there. Her ship, her livelihood—even her very life depended on it.
Still, even as she tried to turn her mind to the Eye and what she would say to B’Rugh, its owner, the big Havoc kept crowding into her mind, demanding her attention…
Chapter Six
Thrace tossed restlessly on the cot. He had slept poorly and had wakened to the quiet sounds of Trin getting ready to depart. He’d almost called out to her—wanting to say a word before she left. But what was he going to say—I’m sorry? Thrace snorted. Not fucking likely. Why would he apologize to his captor? The female who had bought him and chained him down. The one who refused to let him up from this fucking cot? Stubbornly, he had turned his face to the wall again and drifted back off to sleep.
He woke again with his head pounding and a blaster shoved in his face.
“Wha—?” He stared groggily at the blunt silver-blue muzzle hovering just above his nose. Gods, his head was killing him.
“Get up.” The steely voice belonged to a female named Sidna, who he was pretty sure was the ship’s medic. It was her voice he most often heard arguing with Trin about what was to be done with him.
“Can’t get up,” he said, glaring at her. “I’m chained to the fucking—”
“I’ve unchained you. Stunned you first in your sleep to be certain you didn’t wake up in the middle. I’m taking no chances with you, Havoc.” She waved the blaster at him again. “Now get up—slowly. This is set to kill so don’t get any ideas.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Thrace said dryly. “What are you going to do with me?”
“I’m getting rid of you while Trin is gone. She’ll probably be upset with me when she comes back—if she comes back. But that’s just too damn bad.”
“What do you mean if she comes back?” Thrace sat on the side of his much-hated cot, trying to regain all the feeling in his extremities and relishing the feeling of freedom for the first time in days. But the diminutive medic’s words troubled him. “Why wouldn’t she come back?” he asked, looking at her.
“Because she’s gone into the Demon’s Eye by herself with no backup,” Sidna snapped.
“She what?” Thrace exploded, standing up so suddenly Sidna jumped and shoved the blaster right in his sternum.
“I said slowly,” she snarled. “Any more sudden moves like that and I’ll blow your head off—I swear by the Goddess of Judgment, I will.”
“Sorry,” growled Thrace. “But the Demon’s Eye—that place is a fucking viper pit! Every murderer, skinner, psycho-slicer, and mind-raper in the known universe is welcome there. Any one of them will kill you just for looking at them the wrong way. And with that type it doesn’t matter how you look at them—it’s always the wrong way.”
“You’re not telling me anything I don’t already know. Anything I haven’t already said to Trin,” Sidna said tightly. “But she thinks she’ll be safe because she knows the male who runs the place.”
“She knows B’Rugh?” Thrace could scarcely believe his ears. Trin certainly didn’t seem like the kind of person who was on speaking terms with the most notorious crime-lord in this or any other galaxy.
“She beat him in a card game once,” Sidna said. “He’s been after her to come and ‘visit’ him on his home base ever since. But up until now she’s never been stupid enough—or desperate enough—to go.”
“Why in the Seven Hells would she go now?” Thrace demanded. “Especially without anyone to watch her back?”
“Why do you think? Because of you.” Sidna waved the blaster at him accusingly.
“Because of me? What are you talking about?”
“You mean she didn’t tell you?” Sidna raised an eyebrow at him disbelievingly. “Buying you nearly bankrupted her. I finally got the whole story out of her the other night—she spent fifty thousand credits on you to get you free of that slaver at the Flesh Bazaar.”
“Fifty thousand credits?” Thrace could scarcely believe it. The sum was ten times what even the most accomplished and highly trained slave was worth. He’d been bought at a high price the first time he was a slave but his old Master could afford it—Trin couldn’t. “Why the fuck would she spend so much on me?” he demanded.
“I have no idea.” Sidna gave him a withering look. “Especially since all she really wanted was a male to stand at her back and look pretty at the Yonnie Six state functions. And you plainly can’t even be trusted to do that.” You worthless piece of scum, her tone implied.
“She told me she didn’t buy me for sexual reasons, like the Yonnite mistresses buy body-slaves,” Thrace said. “But I never knew she just wanted me for backup.” Backup he hadn’t provided—and wasn’t providing now. Trin was alone in a den of thieves, rapists, murders and every other kind of criminal. And he wasn’t there to help. I could’ve been, he thought. If she’d trusted me enough to let me up, enough to take me with her. If I’d given her any reason to trust me.
“She bought you to save your worthless life, Havoc,” Sidna snapped. “She told me the slaver who sold you was trying to kill you with the pain collar he’d put on you. In my opinion, it’s a pity he didn’t succeed.” She shook her head. “Trin always was too soft hearted—although I never knew her to let her feelings get in the way of good judgment before.”
“I can’t fuck
ing believe it…fifty thousand credits.” Thrace shook his head.
Sidna sneered at him. “You would’ve been overpriced at fifty credits-let alone fifty thousand.”
“Look, I can tell you don’t like me but I didn’t ask to be captured and sold as a slave,” Thrace growled. “Any more than I asked to be bought and chained to a cot for days on end.”
“Well you’re out of your chains now—much good may it do you. Come on.” Sidna was poking him with the blaster again. “Get going. The sooner you’re off this ship the better.”
“What the fuck do you plan to do with me?” Thrace growled. “Blow me out the airlock into deep space?”
“Don’t tempt me.” The medic’s voice was grim. “But no—Trin would never forgive me if I did that. For some reason she’s grown fond of you—even though you tried to strangle her and you can’t keep a civil tongue in your head. Goddess alone knows why but she actually likes you. So I can’t kill you.”
“Then where am I going?” Thrace demanded.
“Into one of the life pods. They’re fully stocked and they have enough fuel to navigate deep space for a good long time. Providing you can push the autopilot button, you’ll be able to make your way someplace safe. And anyplace away from The Alacrity is good enough for me,” Sidna said tightly. “Now come on, let’s go.”
She herded him at blaster-point down the narrow curving corridor to one of the far ends of the ship. Then she pointed to a small metal escape hatch.
“There. You can take that one. Just get in, press the big green button, and never come back. That’s all I ask.”
“Fine.” Thrace opened the door and ducked his head to get inside.
Without another word, Sidna sealed him in, cutting him off from the rest of the ship with a final sounding chink of metal against metal.
Thrace looked around, assessing his surroundings. The pod was cramped for someone his size but it clearly had enough food and stores for several people so he should be fine. The controls were simple too. He’d been piloting ships for almost as long as he’d been alive. One look at the miniature but fully functional navicon showed a stable wormhole just a few parsecs away. He could take it back to the galaxy he’d started from, get The Empress out of dry dock and go look for his best friend and first mate, Solar who had also been sold at the Flesh Bazaar.
But that would mean leaving Trin to the mercy of B’Rugh and the Demon’s Eye.
Looking out of the viewscreen at the front of the little pod, he saw the huge silver space station gleaming ominously in the light of the red dwarf star at the center of the system. Trin was in there somewhere…alone…unprotected. Oh, he knew she was probably armed—she was a savvy female and wouldn’t go into a place like that without a blaster or two strapped to her belt. But what good was a blaster against such a hoard of dangerous, lecherous criminals? Against B’Rugh? Thrace’d had some dealings with the crime lord in the past himself—none of them pleasant.
She bought you and chained you up! snarled a little voice in his brain. Chained you to a cot for days!
Because she didn’t trust me. Because I gave her no reason to trust me, Thrace answered it. And she’s only there because of me. She bought me to save my stupid, fucking life. That damn slaver would have killed me if she hadn’t stopped him.
He remembered now…Sidna’s scathing words had brought the recollections of what had happened in the Flesh Bazaar back like a fever dream. The slaver demanding that he get off the platform so Trin could examine him…his own silent refusal…then the horrible pain like a stinging electrical current running through his entire body. He even remembered seeing her punch the scaly bastard in the jaw when he wouldn’t turn off the pain collar. Trin really had saved his life—he owed her for that, no matter what the last few days had been like.
Turning to the navicon, he set a course for the Demon’s Eye.
He just prayed he wasn’t too late.
Chapter Seven
Trin walked carefully but confidently through the long metal halls of the space station. She kept her chin high and her hand near her blaster, which was strapped comfortingly to her hip. It didn’t do to show fear in a place like this but she wasn’t above letting people know she was armed. That was just common sense.
She’d taken her time circling the massive structure and picking the right place to dock. Using one of the smaller, more distant docking zones would have been more discrete and drawn less attention. However, it also would have meant traversing long stretches of poorly lit corridors alone until she got to a main branch.
On the other hand, docking in a central zone, close to the heart of the station, meant attracting immediate attention from the inhabitants. It also, however, guaranteed a swift getaway if the deal went south.
After almost an hour’s deliberation, Trin chose the central zone. She was one woman alone and she didn’t like to take her chances in the small, twisty corridors that ran through the peripheral branches of the station. Plus, she was hoping that B’Rugh would be willing to do a quick, straightforward deal which would allow her to go straight back to her ship with no problems.
Please Goddessof Judgment, she prayed as she walked, trying not to see the eyes gleaming in the dark offshoots on either side of the main corridor. Please—I’ve always followed all your precepts and held your laws sacred and holy. Let everything go easily and well!
She carried her credit in gold chip-coins hidden in the money belt strapped to the small of her back. Other establishments might be linked to various financial institutions and accept a thumbprint scan for a transfer but not here. The Demon’s Eye was a strictly cash-only kind of place. Not too surprising considering who ran it. B’Rugh wasn’t known for his tolerance or leniency—he was more famous for business acumen and cruelty, though he had always been civil to her.
Trin had met him when she sat in on a card game of three handed thrash in a trashy little dive in the Leffaba System. It was a complicated game which involved periodically trading hands with the player sitting three seats from you as well as managing three groups of cards at once.
Despite the fact that two of the players had been Leffbas—the species that had originally invented the game and who each had three arms and six hands, Trin had still managed to win. B’Rugh, who had lost badly, was much impressed with her skill and had been inviting her to come visit him at the Demon’s Eye ever since.
This was the first time Trin had taken him up on his invitation. She just hoped it wasn’t the last thing she ever did.
She scanned the long, dirty metal walkway as she went, her low heeled boots ringing against the floor. So far, so good. Though she could see the huge, lumpish shapes and gleaming eyes of males in the side corridors, no one had accosted or attempted to approach her yet. There were some leering expressions of lust and a few catcalls from time to time but that was all…for now. Had B’Rugh put out the word that she wasn’t to be bothered? Or were the thugs simply so surprised at seeing a lone female in their midst they didn’t know what to do?
Whatever the case, Trin hoped that their apparent policy of non-contact continued. Although at some point she was going to have to ask someone to point the way to B’Rugh…
“Greetings, my lady,” a high, grating voice announced.
It was so close to her and so unexpected that Trin nearly jumped out of her skin.
“I…what?” She looked around wildly, only to see the speaker appear suddenly right in front of her. He didn’t walk forward, he simply showed up as though he’d materialized out of nothing.
She took a look at him…and had to fight to keep from stepping back. He was a tall, skeletal male with a skull-like face and boney, prominent eye sockets around his deep-set eyes. Or eye, anyway. The entire right side of his face was covered with some kind of rigid metal mask with an unblinking purple light glaring from where the right eye should be. He had a knife blade of a nose and thin, almost non-existent lips that were the color of raw meat.
The worst part in Trin??
?s opinion, was that a piece of his skull had been removed and replaced with a clear, plasti-glass dome. Through it, she could see his pulsing gray brain implanted with a few weakly flickering lights. The brain matter around these implants was darker that the other tissue and looked almost…rotten. But that wasn’t possible, was it? How could anyone live and function with a rotting brain?
“I see you’re admiring my communications array,” the male said, tapping the plasti-glass shield with one skeletal finger.
“Oh, uh…” Trin wasn’t sure what to say. “It’s…like nothing I’ve ever seen before,” she said at last. Which was certainly true.
“It used to be my link to the beings I served—they are, alas, no more.”
“That’s too bad,” Trin remarked, keeping her hand near her blaster.
“I had another connection too—one to a dear friend—closer than a brother. But he died as well.” He sighed mournfully in a way that almost made Trin sorry for him. Almost.
“I’m very sorry to hear it.”
“Well, it cannot be helped. People do come and go in our lives sometimes, don’t you agree?”
Trin thought of the big Havoc chained to his cot back on The Alacrity—thought of her decision to let him go when she got back from doing the deal aboard the Demon’s Eye.
“True,” she admitted, her heart feeling heavy for no reason she could really name.
“But then…one moves on,” the strange male continued. “One finds new places to inhabit, one makes new friends. The universe becomes a brighter place—yes?”
He smiled and Trin had to keep herself from flinching away from him a second time. Pealing back those liver-colored lips revealed spit-shiny stainless steel teeth that were somehow even more grotesque than the exposed brain.
“Right,” she muttered, gripping her blaster.
“Oh, you won’t need that.” The male grinned even wider and nodded at the blaster. “It’s quite unnecessary. I’m not here to accost you—I’m here to lead you to our most estimable leader, Alile vuh B’Rugh.”