by L A Warren
“I’m sorry. I can’t…a few kisses doesn't make it all go away.”
He tried to soothe her. “Of course not, but you should not deny the bond.”
She pushed against him and freed herself from his embrace. Spinning on her heels, she stomped a few feet off. There was nowhere to go, but she felt a need to put distance between them. When he stood so close, it was impossible to think.
“Do not walk away from me.”
His words passed over her with an icy chill and stopped her cold. Implications of power threaded in his voice, who held it and who did not. It was a threat she could not ignore.
She closed her eyes. Stop fighting and be the damn willow. Bend and dear God, do not break!
One of his hands clasped her arm as the other brushed back the hair from her neck. He kissed her on the nape and she shuddered with desire. The hairs on her arms stood on end.
His warm breath whispered in her ear. “S’vlor never walk away from their masters.” He traced a long line of kisses along the soft flesh of her neck. “I do not ask you to forget, Elise. You have a lifetime to work through what happened. Eventually, you will understand and accept your place in my worlds.”
She spun around and found herself encased in his arms. “It’s not as easy as you think. I need time to figure things out.” Time she would never give him, because she would be gone, and out from beneath his rule.
“What do you find so hard?” He looked down with a smoldering hunger burning in his eyes.
She gestured between them. “This! Being held in the arms of my enemy.” She lowered her voice to a whisper. “Being kissed…by you…and feeling…”
Gregor stared at her for a long hard moment. “It’s not the being held or the kissing that bothers you.” He planted a final kiss on her forehead and released her. “I wish I could give you the luxury of time to accustom yourself to your new home and your place within it, but unfortunately time is something I am short on. Speaking of which, it is time to deliver you back to High Tender Marcus. Never forget, my dear Elise, as much as you wish to believe it, I am not your enemy.”
His dear Elise. Not his opés, but his Elise. What did it mean when he used her name?
A battle had been waged, but for the life of her she had no idea who had won. Her body? Her mind? Gregor?
What she knew for certain was that she knew more about her prison than she had before. That had to count for something.
Chapter Sixteen
Gambit, Day 126
Screams, groans, shrieks, and worse clawed their way through the air of the Confinement Deck. Elise worried over the lives of her friends, but the WOR-guards forbade any contact. A better name for the hulking guards would be woe-guards, because they brought nothing but pain and misery.
Three days, and none of the women had yet to regain consciousness. Their cries echoed through the vast chamber of her prison, keeping her awake late into the night. Her only reprieve from the heartbreak of their ongoing agony were the excursions off the Confinement Deck grudgingly allowed by High Tender Marcus. She was grateful for the trips outside, yet equally riddled with guilt for wanting to escape the agony of her friends.
High Tender Marcus moved her sleeping area far from the others, but distance didn’t help. With each passing day, the WOR-guards removed a few more sleeping pods—casualties of the Activator’s work.
Otherwise, things continued as they had. Gregor selected her dresses, scarlet or emerald hues of diaphanous fabric or shimmering silk. The back laces declared his victory. By covering her back, the message was clear. She had progressed beyond the need of a WOR-guard’s whipstick. That he had that much confidence in her compliance made her want to wretch.
She kept up the façade, laughing and smiling. They snuggled and held hands. She didn’t draw away. Every word he said she devoured, but ever present on her mind were thoughts of escape. Today he promised a treat, although he wouldn’t say what his surprise might be.
She had come to anticipate his gifts with a reserved skepticism. He’d asked about her hobbies and when she mentioned her love of stunt flying. His eyes lit up with excitement. Next she knew, he had her immersed in the Vendel equivalent of a virtual simulation of a small one-man craft he called a jump jet. He said it was a big deal with the Vendel, a racing circuit popular throughout the empire.
It was more than a big deal. It was the most intense and freeing experience of her life. The controls confused her at first, no joysticks or rudder controls for her feet like her stunt plane back home. Instead, the jump jet was controlled using her palms and a gel-interface. She died too many times to count in the simulation, but the experience had still been exhilarating.
His next surprise had been the farms. Gambit had five Circumferential Parks. Sculpted and manicured, they ran the perimeter of the ship built exclusively for the rest and relaxation of the crew. The farms were different and built for sustenance. In a ship ten kilometers in diameter, the farms took up the entire underbelly. Never had she imagined large tracts of land, orchards, or even forests, rivers, and lakes would exist on a spaceship. He even took her fishing on one of the lakes.
The last of his surprises had been a tour of the inner workings of Gambit’s protein processing plants. That hadn’t been nearly as fun as the others. Disgusting didn’t even begin to describe that horrifying trip and she hadn’t eaten meat in the days since.
Every day a WOR-guard escorted her out of the Confinement Deck and she met Gregor at the entrance. His handsome face lit up at her arrival, his brows quirking in that dashing way of his, and the imperial tattoo danced as only it could.
“Hello, Gregor.” She stretched up on tiptoe and kissed him.
He wrapped a hand around her waist and pulled her close. Then he returned her kiss with a chaste one of his own. Releasing her, he took a step back and reached into his breast pocket where he pulled out a gel-flimsy.
“A gift for you, opés.” He handed the device over.
She took it with some confusion. “What am I supposed to do with this?”
“Well, you can start by activating it.”
The display lit up in a glittering blue, and rows of numbers and letters appeared. She glanced at him. “Gregor, why do I have a list of the ship’s coordinates?”
Excitement sparked in his eyes. “This is your surprise.”
She shook her head, feeling like she’d missed the joke. “I don’t understand.”
He leaned in and kissed her cheek. “Lord vlor’Vardhal is busy in the Confinement Deck and I have a High Council meeting I cannot miss. Since neither one of us can chaperone you, I am sending you on a tour of the ship…alone.”
“You’re doing what?” This simply wasn’t happening. She turned back to the WOR-guard who had escorted her out, but he’d already disappeared back down the long tunnel returning to the Confinement Deck. There was no guard waiting to accompany her on this excursion.
“Alone? High Tender Marcus will have a fit.”
“No. In fact, we came upon the idea together.”
“Aren’t you afraid I’ll try to escape?”
Gregor tilted his head back and laughed. “Gods no! Where would you go that we wouldn’t find you?”
“I didn’t mean—” She tried to frame an appropriate amount of shakiness to her voice. “I just figured I’d have an escort.” An upwelling of hope speared through her heart at the thought of an unescorted foray through the ship. There was so much she wanted to explore.
“At some point, I must trust you. I think now is a good time to start.” His brow arched in question. “Unless there’s a reason I shouldn’t?”
“Well, no. I’m just a little shocked.”
He gripped her hands. Penetrating gray eyes pierced her and held her in place. “You are my s’vlor, my opés. You and I are meant to work in harmony…not against each other. This is an important lesson for you to learn.”
“But the WOR-guards and the braklav?”
“Serve me, and they will not trouble you. Trust must
start someplace. I chose today.”
“What if I get lost?” Not that she would. A perfect schematic of the entire ship, lift tube and pod system was permanently etched in her brain.
“I will find you.”
She wanted to explore the parts of the ship he’d avoided or hadn’t gotten around to showing her, like that flight deck and those access hatchways the bio-carts used. Those empty holes in Gambit’s schematics were begging to be filled.
“How?”
Freedom to explore Gambit was great, but the kind of exploration she had in mind couldn’t be done under the watchful eyes of her captors. Unlike the Confinement Deck, the corridors of the Gambit didn’t have continuous monitoring devices, but she wasn’t foolish enough to believe they were giving her free rein. They had to have some way of tracking her movements; she needed to find a way around their system, and she already had an idea about that.
“Just press any palm-pad and I will know where to find you.”
“Won’t you be watching?” She pointed to one of the recording devices planted at the Confinement Deck check-in desk. “You should know where I am.”
He pressed the tip of her nose with his finger. “If I need to monitor your movements I could, but that is not what today is about. I said today was about trust, but it is also about extending freedom, me giving you my trust and you showing me you are worthy of accepting it.” Concerned filled his voice. “I thought you would be more excited.”
She smiled and looked into his eyes with a meekness she didn’t feel. “Sorry, I guess I wasn’t prepared for something like this, not after everything—”
He pressed his finger to her lips, silencing her. “It is time to move toward our future, opés, and leave the past where it belongs.”
“I will try.” She stepped toward him and wrapped her arms around his waist. “Thank you, Gregor. This means a lot to me.”
He kissed the top of her head. “I know.”
Since he was in a giving mood. “Can I ask for something else?”
“It depends.”
“I was just thinking about the other girls.”
Tension stiffened his body’s stance in her arms. “My power is limited there.”
“I know, but it’s hard on us, not being able to speak to one another. Is there any way you could get the Tenders to lift the prohibition on speaking? After everything we’ve been through and now with Activation, it would be helpful if we could support one another. It's been months since we've had that freedom. I could tell them about all of this.”
"All of what?"
"What lies beyond the Confinement Deck for one thing. About how working with you is easier than resisting. I can't do that if I can't speak to them, and there will be questions. It would really mean a lot, and I think it would go a long way to helping them see what I've come to see."
His chest rumbled with a soft laughter.
“What?” She leaned back far enough to gaze up into his eyes.
He stared back at her, warmth flooding his eyes. The corners of his lips turned up. “Your language slipped, you must be more careful.”
“What do you mean?”
“You said months when you should have said sun cycles. The Tenders will not be so tolerant of mistakes as I am.”
She punched him playfully in the chest. “See, that just supports my point. If we could talk to each other, we could practice your language with each other and we’d be more proficient. It’s really to your benefit to have the ban lifted. And, it’s not like we’re going anywhere.” She tossed his words back at him. “Like you said, there’s nowhere we can go you won’t find us. A thousand women aren’t going to run away.”
At least not yet. Still working on that plan.
“I will talk to Lord vlor’Vardhal, though I make no promises.”
Grabbing the fabric of his shirt, she kissed him with more passion than she intended. “I was just thinking about the lift-tubes. Who will I grab for support without you there beside me?”
“Somehow, I think you will manage. Not that I mind you clinging to me.”
“Or the kisses?”
He laughed. “Or your kisses.” He pulled her close. “Your ardor is appreciated, but for certain things we must wait.”
Of course, he’d made that very clear.
“Now, I must get to my meeting with the High Council.” He leaned to whisper in her ear. “But we will not have to wait forever. An insatiable hunger grows within me.”
She gave the expected answer. “And I.” The sweet smile she plastered on her face made her cheeks hurt.
“You have your task. Lord vlor’Vardhal has required you to report in at each destination on the list. If you get lost, activate the nearest palm pad and I’ll come for you.”
That wasn’t nearly enough time for what she had planned. “I’ll learn better if I have to figure it out on my own, even if I get turned around, or even lost. That’s always the best way to learn a new place.” She shrugged. “I mean, if that’s okay with you.”
“I don’t think Lord vlor’Vardhal intended for you to wander…”
She tried for an innocent expression. “If you’re not sending guards as escort, does it really matter if I get lost? There’s nowhere you won’t find me.”
“I love your stubborn streak. To building another bridge between us, my opés.” His voice was full of conviction and it was difficult not to believe him.
“You have half the day, Elise. Go and explore. See if you can follow my directions.”
“Thank you.” She threw her arms around his neck and kissed him. “Thank you for trusting me with this.” He was such a fool.
“Call for help if you need it. I will see you at third lunch.”
The oddball meals on the Confinement Deck mirrored those of the ship. She thought the schedule was a sadistic means of control for the women, but it was a necessity of shipboard life. Another assumption which had turned out to be wrong. When feeding twenty-thousand crewmen, eating in shifts made sense. Especially since the personnel quarters lacked cooking facilities. She gave the gel-flimsy a hard look and assessed her situation, trying to work out how best to prioritize.
The first destination on Gregor’s list was one pod ride and a short lift-tube away, the Culinary Conclave, better known as a chow hall. For the first time in four sun cycles, four long Earth months, she found herself alone, but she was far from free.
Immediately she found a public access corridor with low foot traffic. There she pulled up her viral subroutine, Bobo, with its backdoor into the am-net security protocols. Pausing to glance at her gel-flimsy, she waited for a lull in the passing traffic.
She prayed this worked. “Please don’t get caught. Please don’t get caught.” A sudden and violent swirling of colors in the periphery of her vision had her swaying and holding onto the wall for support. She shook her head to clear her vision and steady herself.
Putting her hand to the palm-pad, she activated Bobo. The viral sub-routine enacted its programming and opened a doorway in an otherwise seamless wall, granting her access into a restricted space.
The easy coordinate system of the Gambit left huge gaps in the volume of the doughnut-shaped ship. A maze of service corridors, filled with nothing but the biologic robots of the Vendel, existed alongside the human passageways. These would become her pathways and in them she would travel throughout Gambit, unseen and untracked. Bobo not only allowed her access into this private space, but the viral code logged a trail of her travels along the human passageways for Gregor and the High Tender to follow.
Mission success.
Third lunch with Gregor wound up much more passionate than she had planned, but one look at the pleasantly surprised expression on his face, she knew she’d be able to take advantage of that as well. His stoic restraint against her sensual advances couldn’t hold up for much longer.
Chapter Seventeen
Gambit, Day 127
The next morning Elise woke to a somber Confinement Deck. T
he WOR-guards assembled a few women—a handful who had awakened from the Activator—and escorted them to a subdued first breakfast.
Alice’s white hair stood out among the others. Elise sprinted to her best friend, tears streaming down her face. She risked a beating from the WOR-guards with her hug and her words, but it was worth it. Alice had survived.
“Alice!”
Sallow and gaunt, the Activator had taken much out of Alice. Even her shock of blonde hair had dulled in the light. Alice’s beautiful blue eyes, normally vibrant and light, sunk inward, giving her a defeated look.
“You look…so tired,” Elise said.
A WOR-guard stood ten feet away, his hard gaze giving a warning she ignored.
She didn’t care. Alice needed her. She brushed her hand over Alice’s temple, feeling a slight flush of heat beneath her friend’s skin where a low-grade fever simmered. “How do you feel?” Her gaze cast toward the WOR-guard, but he didn’t move toward her, although it was clear he’d heard her speak.
Alice’s red eyes stared back from a face lined with pain. “Someone put my head in a blender and set it on puree. Why do you look so damned happy?”
“I’ve been up longer than you.”
“What did they do to us?”
“Practiced their bio-tech.”
The anger in Alice’s voice relieved Elise, just a little. Perhaps they hadn’t taken the fight out of her friend.
“They call it the Activator and it switched on these special genes we all have,” she explained. “The pain is from those genes rewiring our brains.”
“Why?”
“I’ve been told it’s to bring out latent mental abilities and turn us into tools for the empire.”
“That’s lame.” Alice placed a hand up to shield her eyes. “My head hurts like hell. It’s so damn bright. Don’t they believe in pain killers? And what’s up with these necklaces?” She twirled the necklace dangling around her neck.
“They have something to do with suppressing our abilities. I think it’s supposed to control us.” She didn’t have the heart to tell Alice the High Tender had been dosing all the girls with potent pain killers. Alice likely still had some of the drugs onboard. “Are you hungry?”