He would have to find them before they made it to Zarata, or else he might cause an intergalactic crisis. Not that he particularly cared. He’d do whatever was necessary to take his prize. But he didn’t need people reporting back to his father that he’d caused an intergalactic incident by murdering a Zaratan noble.
It may not come to that, but Braol hoped it did. He wanted to kill the bastard who had taken the human from him.
He powered the ship and set a course for Zarata. His human slave might not know it yet, but she was his, and he was coming for her.
6
Jiran
Jiran was involved in a fierce mental battle. He felt a strong urge to protect Sarai, and that involved keeping her away from everyone and everything, at least until they got to the safety of Zarata. But it seemed that was not meant to be.
“I’m sorry,” Deseer said for the fifth time. “I was so focused on escaping. I never even realized they managed to get a shot off…”
Jiran shook his head. “It’s not your fault.”
It was all his fault. Deseer was traumatized by her recent capture and imprisonment. Jiran should have been the one checking the ship for any potential damage, but he’d been too distracted by Sarai.
Over the last few days, as they’d been traveling, she had started to come out of her shell. She wasn’t trying to kneel before him anymore and she’d expressed interest in a number of aspects of space travel. She was still very wary of him and Deseer, but it was a marked improvement on how she’d been at first.
And now, all of that progress might be undone. “How long?”
“The repairs will take at least a day. There’s a good industry on Fregin. If we land there, we should easily find someone. We can book a room for the night, and hopefully set off the next morning.”
Jiran nodded slowly. It was unavoidable—the ship wouldn’t make it to Zarata without repairs. “Alright, start bringing us down. I’ll tell Sarai.”
Deseer nodded and Jiran left her in the control room as he went to look for Sarai.
Sarai was sitting in her room—Jiran had finally convinced her to use it rather than hover outside his door—reading on the tablet he’d given to her.
“What’s the subject for today?” He smiled as he stepped into the room, careful not to get too close to her.
Sarai was still easily spooked, and yesterday when he’d gotten too close to her, she’d taken it as an order to ‘pleasure her master’, as she put it. She was both beautiful and interesting, but Jiran would never take advantage of her in that way.
“Interplanetary law.” Sarai’s face scrunched in confusion. “I don’t understand. It says here that slavery is illegal, but you said I was a slave on Krakia. That wouldn’t be possible if this law that I’m reading is correct.”
Jiran sighed. “It’s not legal according to interplanetary law. Slaves cannot be sold between planets legally. However, each planet is allowed to have its own laws, and on Krakia, slavery is legal. They’re not allowed to sell or obtain slaves off-planet—not that it doesn’t happen, but they have to do it sneakily because they would be in trouble if they were caught.”
Sarai frowned, and Jiran could see that she still wasn’t convinced that she really had been a slave. He was hoping to show her how other people lived and help her see just how badly she’d been treated on Krakia. She may not have been beaten, but she’d been relentlessly brainwashed, which as far as he was concerned was just as bad.
“We need to stop at another planet. The ship is damaged, and it needs some repairs. You’ll have to come with Deseer and me to stay in a hotel while that’s being done.”
“Of course,” Sarai murmured. Jiran thought he saw worry in her eyes, but she didn’t say anything, so he let it pass.
She still fell back on the obedience she’d been taught in unfamiliar situations, but Jiran was starting to see more and more of her personality shine. She was smart and loved learning. She’d spent the entire time on the ship reading on various topics. She also had an awesome sense of humor, whenever she felt safe enough to use it.
They landed on Fregin an hour later. When they got to the planet’s surface, Sarai seemed in danger of damaging her neck with how much she looked around, staring at everything from the interesting to the mundane.
“What’s that?” she asked, pointing at a small stall selling clothing.
“That’s a shop. If you have currency, you can buy the clothes you like.”
“What if you don’t have currency?”
“Then you have to work to earn it.”
“On Krakia, we were given what we needed. If we wanted better clothes, we could work hard to do well in our lessons and earn extra privileges. That sounds like what you’re saying about working to earn currency.”
It was overwhelming sometimes, just how much she didn’t know, but Jiran did his best to explain.
“Not really,” he said. “When you work for currency, you make an agreement between yourself and your employer. If you can’t agree, you don’t work for them. And you can leave at any time to find better employment.”
She looked confused again, but Sarai nodded vaguely, her attention caught by something else. Jiran and Deseer hurried to follow as she made a beeline for another stall that was selling little glass balls with pieces of plastic floating in them.
Jiran saw at once why she was interested in this store—it was run by a human.
Sarai turned to Jiran. “He looks like me.”
“That’s right. He’s human, just like you are.”
“I’ve never seen anyone who looks like me.”
He felt a wave of pity for her. “How long did you live on Krakia?”
“As long as I can remember—all my life, I think.”
Jiran had never despised the slave trade more than he did at this moment. Sarai should have grown up surrounded by her own people. She should have been taught how the world worked rather than to submit.
“Hello, there.” The store owner peered at Sarai. “Are you interested in a snow globe?”
“A snow globe?”
He gestured to his products. “They are Christmas decorations commonly sold on Earth. See, you shake it like this—and it snows.”
Sarai gasped in delight at the simple ornament. Jiran would have loved to let her stay longer, but Deseer was making impatient eyes at him. They needed to get off the street. They had stolen a slave and would do well to keep out of sight. There would surely be some form of pursuit, and Jiran would rather avoid it than end up having to fight.
“Come on. We need to go.”
Sarai didn’t protest, but quickly turned her attention to him and followed. Jiran could see the disappointment in her eyes and it pierced his heart, but she said nothing. He longed for a day when she would argue with him rather than follow orders blindly, but apparently, today was not that day.
They got through the market as quickly as they could, given that Sarai was still staring at everything. Jiran gently put an arm on hers to guide her so that she didn’t bump into anyone, and she accepted the contact without any form of adverse reaction.
“Who do you work for? To earn currency? That was currency you gave to the people at the ship repair place, right?”
This wasn’t a good time to go into his heritage as Zaratan nobility. “I’ll tell you once we’re booked into the hotel. For now, we should try to be inconspicuous.”
Sarai nodded and immediately fell silent. Her ‘inconspicuous’ put his and Deseer’s inconspicuous to shame. She seemed to melt into the background, so much that if he hadn’t had his hand on her arm, Jiran might have feared losing her in the crowd around the market.
She was a silent shadow as they checked into the hotel under false names, and Jiran didn’t like it. It was as if she wasn’t there at all, and the idea made his tail swish.
The moment they entered their room, he gave her his widest smile.
“You can talk again. I just needed us to get through the public space without
attracting too much attention. I’m sorry I silenced you. I didn’t realize you’d follow the instruction so thoroughly.”
Sarai gave him a curious look. “Do other people not follow instructions well?”
“Not from people who have no authority over them, and I have no authority over you.”
“But I’m in your custody.”
“I’m giving you a ride and helping you get your life together. Unless I’m part of the government, or I’m your employer, I have no authority over you.”
Jiran knew he needed to go—there were supplies he needed to get—but he found he couldn’t tear himself away from Sarai and her questions.
Deseer smiled wryly at him. “Go on, Jiran. Sarai, I believe you wanted to know how to get currency, right? And who Jiran works for? See, we’re both part of a class of people called nobles on our planet…”
Jiran sighed. That explanation would take a while. Sarai listened raptly to Deseer, allowing Jiran to say a quick goodbye to the two of them before slipping out.
Some of their supplies had been ruined by the leak on the ship and needed to be replaced. Jiran would replace them, but that wasn’t the first thing on his mind. He didn’t like that he’d had to drag Sarai away from the snow globes. They seemed silly to him, but her eyes had lit up when she saw them.
They were something from her home planet, even though it was a planet she didn’t remember. They might be useless, but Jiran wanted to get one for her. He hoped that when they parted ways, she would keep it and remember him.
The thought of parting from Sarai was unexpectedly painful. His hands twitched and his tail swished behind him. Jiran had only known her for a few days, but he was already coming to care for her, probably more than he should.
The man with the snow globes was only too happy to sell him one, which Jiran carefully tucked away before moving through the rest of the market.
He had a list of the supplies they needed, but his eyes kept flicking to the various clothing stores around. Sarai was still wearing the traditional harem clothing she’d been given on Krakia. It marked her as a sex slave, and it was all she’d ever had to wear.
Deseer had offered to lend Sarai some of her own clothes, but when given the choice, Sarai had preferred to wear what she had been wearing her whole life.
Maybe if Jiran bought her something, she’d change her mind. Her current clothes were skimpy and revealing. She undoubtedly looked sexy in them, but he didn’t like that she had no option to cover up her body if she wanted to.
It was a mark of how closely he’d been watching her that Jiran could tell exactly what size she was just from memory. He got her a few different outfits—a dress, some pants, a skirt, and a few tops. He added on a jacket and some practical shoes since her current ones were sparkly and difficult to walk on.
The sky was darkening as the day turned into evening, and Jiran forced himself to get back to his task. Sarai wouldn’t be thanking him for new clothes and a snow globe if they ran out of supplies because of his distraction.
He started working down his list of necessary supplies, his mind already back on Sarai.
7
Sarai
Deseer answered Sarai’s questions just as patiently as Jiran did, but Sarai found herself missing him. Jiran was always so patient and kind to her, but there was something more to him too that she couldn’t quite put a finger on. She only hoped he would be back soon.
Jiran hadn’t told her exactly what would happen once they reached Zarata, but she knew by now that it wasn’t going to be what she’d been brought up to expect. She wouldn’t have an owner providing for her needs, which meant that she’d need to learn to provide for herself.
The thought was frightening, but oddly exciting at the same time.
Seeing this planet, it was hard to disbelieve Jiran and Deseer. Sarai was still hesitant to accept that everything she’d been taught her entire life was a lie, but she had to admit, she was starting to have doubts.
On Krakia, she’d always been taught that their way of life was the only one, that there was no other option for women like her. But just by walking through the streets on Fregin, it was patently obvious that they lived a very different life here.
She’d watched the women. They weren’t subservient to the men, nor did they appear to be owned. There were even some women running their own stores! No one was disciplined or confined, at least no one that she could see.
It was strange, but also strangely wonderful.
There was a whole world out there and she could be a part of it if she wanted to.
And Sarai was starting to think that she did want to.
She asked Deseer more about the jobs people did to earn currency. Several hours later, Deseer was telling her all about restaurants and choosing your own food when Jiran walked in, carrying a number of bags and packages.
“I managed to get everything we need. I got you a few things too, Sarai.”
Sarai obediently got up and went to stand before him, but she didn’t bother to hide her excitement. She must have behaved well if he was upgrading her surroundings.
Jiran dug into one of the bags and pulled out a snow globe like the ones she’d seen at the market. Sarai gasped. He placed it right in her hands, and she shook it gently, watching with wide eyes as the little white pieces floated around in it.
“It’s beautiful!”
“I don’t entirely understand it,” Jiran said. “But from what the store owner told me, this item is given during a human winter holiday called Christmas. It’s a holiday where people give gifts to others.”
Sarai wasn’t quite sure what holidays or gifts were, but she was too happy with her little snow globe to ask right now.
“What are the conditions for this?” She tore her gaze away from the globe and looked at Jiran. She didn’t want to lose this snow globe and so she would do whatever was necessary to keep it, no matter how onerous.
Jiran frowned at her. “Conditions?”
“Which requirements do I need to fill in order to keep the snow globe?” Though it was an entirely standard question, Sarai immediately regretted it, because it seemed to make Jiran sad. His expression fell.
“There aren’t any requirements,” he said. “I’ve given it to you. It’s yours now. That’s how gifts work. Even if we have a disagreement in the future, I don’t have any right to take it away from you.”
Sarai gaped at him. “It’s… mine?”
She’d never owned anything before. Guests weren’t allowed to own anything—they were possessions themselves. Anything they had was given at the discretion of the masters, and could just as easily be taken away.
“That’s right. It’s yours.”
She felt an odd urge to protect her snow globe but squashed that quickly. To disobey would be wrong, especially if it was over a mere object. Though she suspected that she would never have to fight for her globe when it came to Jiran and Deseer. He said it was hers, and for some reason, she believed he wouldn’t change his mind.
Perhaps this was dangerous thinking, but Sarai couldn’t help the grin that spread across her face. Finally, Jiran smiled back at her too and his posture seemed to relax.
“I also got you some other clothes,” he said, rummaging through the bags. “I know you’re not keen on borrowing Deseer’s stuff—and you don’t have to wear these if you don’t want—but take a look at them.”
Sarai hesitantly went through the bag Jiran handed her. These weren’t like clothes she’d ever worn before. They were a lot less flimsy and covered more. They were still colorful, which Sarai appreciated, but there was still doubt in her mind.
“If I wear these… people might confuse me. They might not know that I’m a guest of Krakia.”
“Slave of Krakia,” Jiran corrected. “And you’re not one anymore. Most people choose clothes based on either what they think looks nice, or what they find the most comfortable.”
Sarai looked among the different outfits. She’d never had to ma
ke a choice before, other than to choose to follow orders. “I don’t know how to do this. How do I pick? You decide.”
She offered the bag to Jiran, but he pushed it back to her.
“No, you decide. You’ll be the one wearing them. Try thinking about something you like and dislike about each outfit.”
When Sarai was still left floundering by this, Deseer came to her rescue.
“Let me tell you how I’d evaluate it if I were you. Right now, you want to blend in. Women commonly wear dresses or skirts on this planet, so I’d pick one of those. That dress is too long and flappy to be practical on this planet—it’s often windy here, so the wind would blow it over your head. The skirt is tighter, tight enough that it’s not going to fly away, but not so much that you can’t run in it if you need to.”
“I’ll take the skirt then.” Sarai smiled in relief.
“Not so fast.” Deseer lifted a finger in her face. “I’ve done the evaluation for this planet, now you do it for the ship.”
Sarai knew what they were doing—they were trying to help her learn how to think for herself. It was harder than she’d expected it to be.
“Um… Well, the pants look warm, and it does get quite cold on the ship, so maybe I should go with those?”
“Good choice,” Jiran praised her. “Though in the future, if you’re cold, you should say something. I could have turned up the heat for you.”
Sarai blinked, surprised. “On Krakia, if we were in any kind of discomfort, it was done on purpose by the guards. If we wanted better circumstances, we had to do well in our lessons and tasks.”
Jiran shook his head sadly. “That’s just one of the ways they brainwashed and controlled you. In the rest of the world, things don’t work like that. I’m not saying there aren’t some people who will try to manipulate you like that, but you can always just walk away from them. You never had the option of walking away before.”
Stars, Snow and Mistletoe: A Holiday Naughty List Collection Page 14