Authors: Kyle Pratt
“The ship was
coasting at high velocity and was cloaked. I think it was a smuggler.”
Justin’s eyes
widened. “If it was a smuggler, it was probably someone you knew.”
A broad grin spread
across
Ferren’s
face. “Raiding is what pirates do.”
“Sounds like trouble
to me.”
Ferren
waved his hand
dismissively, “Smugglers don’t complain when they get caught and besides I have
friends in high places.”
You have scum for
friends.
“If you don’t
want her I’ll sell her for what I can, but I’m willing to
give
her to
you, my friend.”
We’re not
friends.
Memories of his own arrival in this armpit of a system
surged into his mind. The smell of the slave market was nauseating, but that
was easy to cope with. Mara’s tears had been the hardest to deal
with. The images still tore at him. He pushed hard against the
memories, forcing them back into the dark depths. “28,000.”
“What?”
“If I agree,” he
wagged his finger for emphasis, “you give me the girl and, immediately after
you sell the cargo, I get the 20,000 credits you already owe me and 8,000 for
the fuel cells.”
“They’re not worth
8,000!”
“Well, get them from
Rumon
. Oh…” Justin paused and looked serious, “don’t
you owe him even more than you owe me?” He rubbed his chin.
“Hmmm,
what about
Rasnic
?
No. No, didn’t he threaten
to kill you?”
Ferren
stared into his
eyes. “You’re a hard man.”
Justin shrugged. “I
sell junk parts to pirates. What do you expect?”
“I’ll bring in the
girl.”
The light flickered
casting the room in alternating shadow and light. Looking up from his
sketch pad, Justin’s wondered if it would remain on or would the tiny room be
cast into darkness. For now the light held.
Sitting in the
corner he looked at the nearby wall.
Gray. My world exists in shades of
gray.
Childhood memories of a green world with blue rivers and sky still
haunted his mind, but they were recollections, or dreams. He sighed and the
desire to breath fresh air, not the stale brew of the old
microworld
,
weighed upon his mind.
I need a vacation.
His tongue slid across
his lips.
And a drink.
A drop of water ran
down a line of rust on the bulkhead beside him.
Okay, it’s not all gray.
He chuckled that a corroded pipe provided a rare display of color.
Perhaps I
could paint a mural in this compartment.
He shook his head.
No.
It
was just a utility room.
He casually scraped the rust with his
fingernail,
then
returned his attention to a sketch of
a tree-lined valley with a river winding through it. Around him were half a
dozen drawings of trees and flowers. Some were fanciful, others realistic, but
all were colorful.
He looked at the
young woman lying on a cot against the far wall. Her mouth hung slightly open
exposing perfect ivory white teeth. Physically she was about the same height,
weight and build as his sister. Both were lean and statuesque, reminiscent of
an athlete, but the woman before him had more muscle. Both shared the auburn
hair that he found attractive and both women kept their hair longer than the
current style. Mara did so to cover the implant at the back of her
head. He had checked just after
Ferren
and his
thugs had left, the woman on the bunk had no implant.
Ferren
was right this mystery woman was pretty. Her hair flowed past the pillow
and over the side of the cot like water cascading over falls.
Hanging from her
neck was a gold medallion on a simple chain. Hidden under her clothing when
brought in, it had fallen out as the men plopped her on the cot.
Ferren
had attempted to take the object. “Take the value
off of your bill,” Justin insisted.
His eyes drifted
from the medal. For several moments he watched as her breasts rose and fell
with each breath. Any man would consider her worth the antique fuel cells he
had given
Ferren
. He stood to get a better view
of her face, then flipped the page of the drawing pad and started sketching her
as she was, sleeping with hair pouring to one side, but he added just a hint of
a smile. He looked back at his sleeping subject.
If
Ferren
never pays me, I’ll still be glad I saved you from
him and the market.
He stepped closer. His eyes focused on her full
lips as he sketched the sleeping angel.
She isn’t just pretty, she is
beautiful.
She moaned slightly.
The drug was wearing off. Hours earlier when
Ferren
and his men had carried her in, he had asked why she was unconscious.
“She was in a stasis
chamber in the cargo bay.”
Ferren
gave a wicked grin.
“Probably a present for somebody.”
She coughed.
His hand froze in
mid stroke. He held his breath. His gaze rested easily upon her eyes.
Her lashes
fluttered.
Justin glanced at his
sketch and closed the pad.
Her head turned. Her
eyes opened.
He smiled. “Hello,”
Eyes wide, her mouth
opened, but no sound came forth.
He shook his head.
“You’re safe.”
The young woman tried
to stand, but fell with her back against the wall. “Who are you?”
“Justin. My name is
Justin.”
Her eyes darted
right and left. “Where am I? What did you do with him?”
“Who?”
Like a leopard she
leaped to the corner and grabbed a length of pipe in her left hand. “The man I
was traveling with—my father…” Holding the weapon like a bat she demanded, “Did
you kill him?”
“Calm down,” Justin
said, while holding his hands low and apart.
She took a deep
breath.
Slowly he stepped
forward.
“Don’t come any
closer.” She raised the pipe. “I’ll hit you.” She looked about the small room.
“Where is he? What have you done with him?”
“You were the only
one they brought to me.”
She swung.
He ducked.
Momentum carried her
partly around. Justin lunged for her side and with a thud they hit the deck.
“You’re quick,” he
said pinning her arms down.
“Release me!” She
shouted as she struggled to free the hand the held the pipe. “What did you do
with him?” She demanded. Then before he could answer, she cursed him. “Did you
kill him?”
Still holding her
arms to the floor he shook his head. “No. I mean…I haven’t killed anyone.”
Well,
lately anyway
.
“Is he alive?” Her
eyes pleaded.
“I don’t know.
“What
do
you
know, pirate?” Contempt flowed with the words.
Justin marveled that
even pinned to the floor she was defiant. “I’m not a pirate,” he said
defensively.
I sell things to pirates, I repair their ships, but I’m not
one.
“Then why are you
holding me captive?”
“I’m not.”
She turned and
looked at her arms, still firmly held to the ground, on either side of her
head.
“Okay. Okay. I’ll
make you a deal—let go of the pipe and promise not to hit me with anything and
I’ll let go.”
She pushed with both
arms and flung a knee toward his groin.
Both attempts failed.
Justin sat on her stomach and for a moment stared into her defiant eyes. “Let
the pipe go.”
The icy stare slowly
melted into acquiescence. “I accept your proposal.” The pipe rolled a few
millimeters from her hand.
Cautiously he
released her and stood.
In one smooth motion
she jumped to her feet in a crouched defensive stance.
Justin stepped back
unsure of what would happen next.
Slowly she uncoiled
into an erect, but tense, posture. “How did I come to be here and,” she looked about,
“where am I?”
“You’re on the
microworld
Liberty, in the Confederation of Free States.”
“The warlord territories.”
A slight drop of the jaw
registered her surprise at the news. “You’re a Dreg.”
“Yes,” he nodded,
“but we prefer the term citizen and CFS.” He breathed deeply. “As to how you
got here, well, your ship was raided by pirates two days ago…”
She slowly nodded as
if remembering the events.
“…and this morning
you were given to me in partial payment for a debt.”
“Given to you?” Cold
eyes bored through him. “I am a citizen of Earth Empire.”
Justin shrugged.
“Well, the CFS doesn’t recognize the government of Earth Empire, or its laws.”
The woman stepped
back. “Am I your slave?”
Over the six years
he had run the business he had received half-a-dozen people as payment. It had
been easy to set them free, but looking at the beautiful woman that stood
before him he was sorely tempted to exercise his legal rights, but Mara and his
own conscience would not let him. He took a deep breath and sighed. “No.” He
shook his head.
I may deal with scum, but I’m not one of them.
“You’re
free to go, but I don’t recommend it.”
“And
why not?”
“Do you have any
money or valuables?”
She clutched the
medallion that hung from her neck, stuffed it in her shirt and shook her head.
“I’m sure the pirates have it all.”
“Do you know how to
contact your family?”
The question seemed
to shake her to the core. “If my father is dead, then I have no family.”
Her despair seemed
to flow into him. “I’m sorry to hear that. You are free to stay here until you
can arrange something but…” the desires that welled up within him made his next
words hard to say but, he felt, all the more important to declare, “
you
are
free.”
She seemed to look
at him for the first time as a person, not a scoundrel. “My name is
Naomi. What did you say your name was?”
He relaxed just a
little. “Justin.”
“Tell me Justin, why
do you accept people in payment and then set them free?”
“Because
I’ve been in your position.”
*
*
*
Five days later
Justin sat at his desk going over accounts receivable. He lifted his eyes
and stared at the closed door of his office. Maybe it was a faint sound
or fleeting shadow, but he knew someone was coming. Then with a certainty he
had come to trust, and hide, he knew who was coming. In a moment, the
door to his office would open.
What do you want now
Ferren
?
The pirate sauntered
in.
I need a secretary.
“Mara said you were
here.”
Thanks Sis.
Years ago DNA tests
proved that he and Mara were not related but, as he looked at the pirate’s
piss-colored teeth, he was glad Mara had agreed with him and not revealed the
results.
Ferren
waddled forward in a gaudy, new suit.
His eyes lingered on
the door. “I’ve watched your sister grow into a remarkable and handsome woman.”
My customers are the
scum of the CFS.
Then a smile crossed Justin’s face.
Naomi might make a good secretary.
He
stood. “Is there something I can help you with?”
Ferren
spread his arms
wide and smiled, “I’ve come to pay you!”
“You didn’t have to
come here to pay me.” He sat back down.
And from now on don’t.
“I wanted to make
sure you got your money, and I have other business to discuss.”
Justin sighed as he
thought that payment might not be forthcoming. “What other business?”
“First things,
first,”
Ferren
said enthusiastically, “Let me pay
what I owe you.” He pulled out his slate.
Justin eyed the
pirate.
You’re going to pay me?
On time?
“Well, in a way, I’m glad you’re here.” He sat down. “I have something I
want to discuss with you.”
“Oh?” he said as he
pressed his thumb on the screen and sat. The seat seemed to groan under his
ponderous posterior.
“You said Naomi was
in stasis when you found her, but…”
“Who?”
“The girl you gave
me last week, her name is Naomi.”
“Yes. She was in stasis.”
“But she knew the
ship had been attacked.” Justin could almost hear the pirate’s heart pound in
his chest. “She tells me she fought your men.”