by L A Warren
Another glance at the WOR-guard revealed him standing idly by listening to them talk, making her wonder if Gregor had intervened about the talking ban. If so, she needed to find a way to thank him, and do so honestly.
“No,” Alice groaned. “Yes. Hell, I don’t know. My stomach is wearing a hole in my belly, but the thought of food makes me want to puke.”
Alice didn’t seem to realize she was speaking freely in front of a WOR-guard.
Elise pulled her toward the food line. “Let’s put something on your plate. You can take your time eating.”
“Ugh.”
Elise led her friend through the line and ignored her protests as she piled food on Alice’s plate. Alice took a tentative bite and then another.
“You’ll feel better with a little food in your stomach.”
Alice chewed and swallowed, the entire act of eating taking even more energy from her friend. She let out a deep sigh and slumped. “Is it ever going to get better?”
She reached across the table to give Alice’s hand a brief squeeze. “As long as we’re alive, we have hope.”
Bleak eyes rebuffed her words. “As long as we’re alive, these bastards torture us.”
Elise leaned in close and whispered. “I’m working on that. I’m going to get us out of here.”
“Remember, the best kept secret is a secret known by one.” Alice searched for the WOR-guards. “If you figure something out, I’ll be there, but until then…”
“Oh, Alice. We’ve got to stick together. I can’t do it all on my own.”
Alice’s look of terror was answer enough. She whispered, “I’m scared.”
Chapter Eighteen
Gambit, Day 132
The WOR-guards kept close watch on the women. Not to correct them, but to make sure their recovery continued to progress. Ten women fell from physical exhaustion that first day, and twice that number the next. More were waking and as they did, they spoke to one another, providing much needed support and encouragement.
On the fifth day, Elise found the courage to count those they’d lost. It wasn’t the one hundred Gregor predicted. They lost nearly twice that. One hundred and eighty succumbed to Activation. The WOR-guards and Tenders didn’t allow the survivors to grieve, for that Elise held a silent vigil. They used the secret tapping code to say their goodbyes to the friends they’d lost.
Alice, along with far too many others, retreated into a fog of despair. Elise could barely get Alice to eat and the few words Alice strung together were more often unintelligible than not. The entire atmosphere on the Confinement Deck turned bleak and desperate. If the Vendel filled the ceiling with dark clouds, and poured down rain and lightning on the women, the mood would be better for it.
Repetition became their routine. Eat, exercise, eat, exercise, and eat again. Lights out and repeat the process. Classes had been cancelled until…well, until the final tally was complete. For the Vendel it was the number who survived that mattered, while she counted the dead.
The Activator pushed most over the edge and demoralization became rampant. They had allowed the Vendel to seduce them with fancy clothes and stimulating education. Activation reminded them they were nothing more than a commodity to the Vendel, something to be cared for, kept safe, but ultimately controlled.
Elise had to find a way to end this brooding silence, a difficult thing to accomplish since her forays off the Confinement Deck had come to a halt the moment the women started to wake. She’d accomplished nothing in five days. The Confinement Deck had never felt more like a prison than it did now.
On the fifth night, with sleep eluding her, she rose out of bed. The quiet tread of patrolling WOR-guards was the only sound breaking the silence of the night. When the patrol came and left, she counted the seconds until they reappeared.
A silent prayer for not getting caught and a childish wish for a cloak of invisibility gave her strength to get out of bed. Upon rising, a wave of dizziness had her gripping the side of the bed. Spots of color flashed then vanished as the lightheadedness receded. She moved as silently as she could to the showers after the patrolling WOR-guard turned the corner and headed down the row of sleeping pods.
In the bath facilities, the benches stood in long silent rows. Around the periphery, stacks of clean towels waited for the morning press of women. At even intervals, distributed between the white stacks, smaller piles of gray and white exercise clothes had been placed with obsessive precision. On the far wall, huge laundry bins dotted the long locker room. She tip-toed over and gave them a thorough inspection. All the bins were full of discarded towels. She leaned over and pushed the towels aside, but the bin was just too deep for her to reach the bottom.
She’d have to get inside. As she got ready to climb inside, a whirring sound filled the air. The bottom of the bin released. The dirty towels tumbled into a large vat of steaming water, full of soapy bubbles and bleach. She jerked back before the steam could scald her face. She’d be bleached, drowned, and boiled if she tried to leave that way.
There had to be a way down to the lower service levels. She stared at the ceiling trying to think. One of the recycling bio-devices crawled overhead. They were ubiquitous devices all over the Gambit, although she’d never seen them on the Confinement Deck before. The devices must only come out at night while they were sleeping. She tracked its progress while another of the devices appeared at the far end of the room, and then another.
The first reached the edge of the ceiling, readjusted, and continued down the wall. The second and third devices plodded along and followed the first. They accomplished the same precise pivot and crawled down the wall. At the base of the floor, the wall slid aside and the first bio-pod disappeared down a narrow tunnel.
She scrambled and raced over. The second device slipped into the tiny corridor. Something warm bumped her arm and she recoiled in alarm. It was the third device trying to line up to the service corridor. She peered into the dark tunnel. It was just barely big enough. Maybe if she squirmed on her belly? But the fit was tight.
Time was running out. It was time to get back to bed before the WOR-guards discovered her absence. As brave as she felt, she feared the pain of the whipstick more.
A second larger access door slid open beside the first. A larger bio-cart trundled out. Behind this opening, a square, lighted tunnel stretched into the distance.
Gregor explained how the smaller air scrubbing bio-pods didn’t need to see to make it back to the recycling vats. They followed a scent-marked trail, but this was a larger cleaning robot. It had optical sensors, which meant it needed light to see. That tunnel was her way out of the Confinement Deck. The door to the access tunnel slid shut.
Elise slipped back into her bed, undiscovered, and excitement hummed in her veins. Tomorrow night she would escape.
Chapter Nineteen
Gambit, Day 137
There are so many of them. Aomi’s eyes flicked to the vlor’lords standing in precise lines in front of them.
Speed dating at its worst, she tapped out. The code remained useful for private conversations.
Elise stood beside Aomi at the end of a long row of tables and benches, her breathing not nearly as fast, nor as deep, as her Asian friend. Elise worried, knowing what the men standing across the room meant for the women. Paula was there as well, hanging back as she usually did. The tightness in the former Marine’s eyes betrayed a rising anxiety she failed to contain. The rapid shifting of her feet made her look like she desperately needed to pee.
If Paula would allow it, Elise would go and comfort her, but the stoic woman held herself apart from the others. She wished Paula was more receptive to attempts at friendship. Both of them had been taken under High Tender Marcus’s wing, something none of the other women truly understood. It would have been nice to have someone to talk to who understood how difficult he could be.
Aomi stretched out her hand to grasp Elise’s for comfort. Her almond gaze flicked along the precise line of vlor’lords standi
ng across the room. Eighty-nine to be precise. One for each of the Fifth Rank WOR present.
All the women looked at the newcomers with trepidation. Since their capture, the only men they’d been exposed to had been the Tenders and the WOR-guards. To see vlor’lords had to be more than a little disturbing. Add to this all the recent changes occurring within the Confinement Deck and everyone was on edge.
Over the past few days, the WOR-guards had reconfigured the left half of the Confinement Deck where they stood. The classrooms on this side were now divided into five separate rooms, one for each Rank.
After Activation, along with its horrific aftereffects, they had lost faith in their captors. A sad testament to say they’d ever developed trust in the men who’d taken them, but the truth couldn’t be denied. They’d come to understand their place and accepted it. Obey and they would not be hurt. This alteration to their strict routine put everyone on edge. The men standing before them were not there to harm, but rather to claim.
The right side of the Confinement Deck remained the same. Their lessons about Vendel society and technology resumed in the small classrooms. They spent this morning back in class for the first time since Activation, but even there they’d found yet another change. Their entire day of instruction had been compressed into half a day. Afterward, the Tenders took all of them to the exercise field, divided them by Rank, then led each group to the newly configured rooms.
Which is where Elise and the other women of the Fifth Rank gathered now. Theirs was the smallest of the five newly constructed rooms. She stood with Aomi, Paula, and a few others in a small group near one end of long rows of tables and eyed the vlor’lords with concern. Of the original ninety-two Fifth Rank women, they’d lost five of their original number. Gregor had told her this would happen.
He’d been right, knowing beforehand that some would die hadn’t helped her to deal with the loss. If anything, the foreknowledge had made things harder. In fact, the past cycle had been the worst ten days since her capture, but she appreciated his honesty. His willingness to answer her questions had built a bridge between them and that brought a measure of trust.
While she still considered him an adversary, the time he spent showing her the Gambit had been almost pleasant. She honestly looked forward to seeing him, spending time with him, holding his hands, and being held by him. As she opened up to him, he rewarded her with more freedom, and the best gift of all: the ability to once again talk to her friends without fear of a whipstick.
None of it changed her plans. A hundred and eighty women had lost their lives to Activation. Her stomach still twisted at the callous disregard the Vendel held for human life. For that reason alone, she needed to free her friends. As long as Gregor and the Tenders controlled their fate, their lives would always be at risk.
She turned her thoughts toward the positives. Chandra had risen from Fourth to Fifth Rank after Activation. She had shared nearly identical schedules with Aomi and Elise previously, and the three of them had developed a close bond. Aomi and Chandra had helped Elise on the original code, refined the syntax, and morphed it into an effective language.
To her delight, Alice had risen from the Second Rank to join the Fifth as well. Unfortunately, the brown-noser, Sarah, had too. That bitch paraded around the past few days as if she were some damn queen, like the other women she had joined hadn’t been Fifth Rank from the very beginning.
High Tender Alec vlor’Martun, a surprisingly gentle man for a Tender, escorted the three newly risen WOR into the room. Upon seeing Elise and Aomi, Chandra hurried over. Alice followed a bit more slowly. Chandra gave Aomi and Elise a hug. Making friends had been difficult through the isolation imposed by their captors, but they had managed to bond, becoming as inseparable as they could, given the constraints of their captivity.
Now that they could speak again—thank you, Gregor—Elise quickly introduced Alice. She tried to include Paula in the introductions, but Paula turned away, again holding herself apart.
Sarah stood away from the group as well, but for a different reason. She received a chilly reception from those gathered. Word had spread about her tendency to backstab and seek favor with the WOR-guards, leaving her with few friends.
High Tender vlor’Martun went to speak to the vlor’lords and left the women without a word.
Aomi nudged her shoulder. “Have you been listening to a word I’ve said?”
“Huh?”
Aomi pulled her long black braid over her shoulder. “I asked if you had any idea what was happening?” Her friend looked to her with an expectant expression.
Those are the vlor’lords, tapped Elise, to her friends. The other girls became silent as they listened to the conversation. They are going to be training us and the Tenders have to figure out some sort of compatibility rating.
How do you know this? Aomi flicked her gaze toward the row of men.
The emperor has explained a little of it, too little, but some.
With the code, anyone could listen in on a conversation. Someone, she wasn’t sure who, tapped, What the hell does that mean?
Expletives were one of the first new words added to the codes. They came frequently in conversation and had been whittled down to just a few taps.
I don’t know exactly. But somehow, they plan to run everyone against each of the lords. Speed dating is probably the best analogy, at least in the rotating part. I have no idea about the speed part. They come up with some sort of compatibility score and, based on that, the field of eligible lords is narrowed down. I believe we’ll all just have one.
Unexpectedly, Paula joined them. She flicked her gaze toward the row of men, her eyes narrowing. Match us to train for what?
I’m not sure. If you meet a minimum threshold, you’ll be matched to that vlor’lord. He’ll claim you and you’ll belong to him.
A look of disgust passed over Paula’s features.
Elise shrugged. She didn’t like it either.
Chandra whispered. You’ve already been claimed, right? By the emperor?
Yes.
Alice jumped into the conversation. What are you going to do while all the rest of this is happening to us? Alice glanced around the room, probably looking for WOR-guards.
I’m not sure, but I think it’s time to learn about this WOR-skill.
A bubble of excitement ran through the group. As much as she hated the Vendel, the thought of bending time and space with her mind brought a certain thrill. How something like that was possible, she had no idea.
High Tender Alec vlor’Martun returned and gripped a gel-flimsy. His gaze flicked up to the women and back down to the gel-flimsy.
High Tender Alec vlor’Martun pointed to Aomi. “234.”
“Yes, High Tender vlor’Martun,” Aomi said with a dip of her head.
He pointed to a seat at the long table. “Sit here.” He scanned his list. “12?” He glanced up.
“Yes, High Tender vlor’Martun?” a timid voice called out from the back of the collected women. The girl lifted her hand and identified herself.
“You are to sit here.” He indicated her seat. He called out another number. “29?”
As he announced each woman’s numerical designation, he indicated their assigned seat along one side of a long table until he filled that row, then he moved to the next table and began again.
With the exception of a slight shifting of feet, none of the men across the room moved as High Tender vlor’Martun seated the women.
Five long rows slowly filled. Alice and Sarah were the last to be called. “5 and 10-4 take your seats here.” Alice and Sarah bobbed their heads and took the last remaining seats.
Elise looked around the room feeling lost. “High Tender vlor’Martun, what about me?”
“Silence, 10-2. The Master Tender will be here shortly to collect you. Stand to the side and be quiet.”
She took up a spot next to the wall and waited.
High Tender vlor’Martun read off a second list of names. Each n
ame brought forward a swaggering vlor’lord from the regimented line of men. One by one, High Tender vlor’Martun lined the men opposite the women.
The vlor’ were the royal caste in Vendel society. As they strutted, marched, and paraded past, Elise noticed two things. First, they were young, under thirty or forty years, but more importantly, they were nervous.
It wasn’t the kind of uneasiness from a person who was scared. They shifted their feet, clenched their hands, pursed their lips, and coughed with anxiety. All the things nervous people did. It was more…as if they were being tested and feared failure.
Sometime during this process, nine other High Tenders entered. At a nod from High Tender vlor’Martun, the Tenders took up position at each end of the five long tables, leaving a spot free for High Tender vlor’Martun at the front table. Finally, it was done. Eighty-nine seated women stared nervously at eighty-nine Vendel lords standing before them.
“My lords, welcome. S’vlor these are the vlor’. They are your guides and will take you through an introduction of the WOR-skill and teach the first skill of the Bar.” He scanned the room. “Lords, please take a seat and introduce yourselves.”
A shiver went down her spine. This was the beginning of her training, but where was her trainer? Where was Gregor?
Scraping sounds filled the room as chairs dragged across the floor. Deep male voices made introductions as the men reached across the table, the act looking rehearsed, and took the hand of the s’vlor opposite them: a slight bend at the waist, followed by an almost reverent bow of the head followed. Then the men lifted the women’s hand, turned it over, and pressed a kiss to the back of the knuckles. Startled gasps echoed around the classroom as this ritual repeated itself eighty-nine times.