Lan’ara put it to her nose and inhaled its fragrance.
“I have never seen its equal or smelled such sweetness,” she told him honestly. “Even though gardening and the nurturing of plants was one of the activities I excelled at during my time at Twyleth Tigg Academy.”
“The nurturing of plants, eh?” The Captain’s eyes glowed even more brightly and three more roses—one blue, one purple, and one yellow—sprouted from his chest. He plucked them and handed them to Lan’ara.
“Yes indeed,” she said earnestly, taking them carefully. “For plants and flowers add beauty and richness to life.”
“They do indeed.” Captain Glo’ll nodded his head approvingly at Need. “I wasn’t sure at first, First Mate Needrix, but I must commend you on your taste. This little female is exquisite.”
“Thank you, Captain.” Need shifted uncomfortably. “Er…I’m glad you like her.”
“Captain Glo’ll, surely you aren’t going to allow this travesty of justice?” Laxah burst out. All during Lan’ara’s conversation with the Captain she’d looked ready to explode and now it seemed she couldn’t hold her words in anymore.
“What travesty are you speaking of, Med Tech Laxah?” The Cytovian captain inquired in his cool, smooth voice.
“I’m talking about the fact that Needrix, here, has bought himself a helpless sex slave!” the med tech spat. “When I signed onto The Dark Star, it was with the understanding that males and females were to be treated equally! I ask you, how is that equal?” And she stabbed a finger at Need and Lan’ara, who looked at her fearfully.
Her mind raced as she stared at the accusing finger pointed in her direction. She had done everything she could to ingratiate herself with the captain, but what if he agreed with Laxah and made Need get rid of her? Where would she go? What would happen to her?
“I have told you many times before, Laxah, that your primitive ways of reproduction don’t interest me in the least,” the captain remarked coolly. “Besides, Needrix doesn’t intend to keep the girl. He already has a buyer lined up in the next system we’re visiting.”
“What?” Laxah demanded.
Lan’ara had thought the med tech’s sharp gray eyes couldn’t get any angrier, but now she looked positively ready to explode. She glared at Need and if looks could kill, the big Kindred would have been dead on the floor.
“So you bought her just to sell her to someone else?” she nearly shouted. “To some other male, no doubt, so he can hurt and abuse her once you get tired of abusing her yourself, you raping bastard!”
“Enough!” Need’s voice rose almost to a roar. “I didn’t buy the girl to rape and abuse her! I bought her to save her!”
“Right,” Laxah scoffed. “Save her from what may I ask?”
“There she is,” a deep, grunting voice proclaimed, cutting through the mutters of the other crew members as they watched Laxah shouting at Need. “There she is—the female who should have been mine.”
Eighteen
Lan’ara felt fear twist like a knife in her gut as she turned and saw the huge Trollox standing in the doorway. He was so big, he filled it completely, blocking access in or out of the common area—not that she was about to try and run past him, she thought. She shrank back behind Need instead, barely keeping her head out just a bit so she could keep an eye on the monstrous form looming over them.
All three heads had their greedy little eyes fastened on her and the middle head—the only one that seemed to talk—was slavering. Thick streams of drool ran down between its yellow tusks and sank into the mossy floor. Its moist, piggish snout wrinkled as it sniffed the air—smelling for her scent, no doubt, Lan’ara thought faintly.
“Should have been mine!” Drung grunted again, still eyeing her with all three heads. “A certified virgin and with nice wide hips—she would have been perfect to carry my heir, so she would!”
“Carry your heir?” Laxah interjected, staring with distaste at the huge Trollox. “What in the name of the Goddess are you talking about, you filthy swine?”
“Drung was bidding on the girl at the same time I was,” Need spoke to the med tech but his eyes were fixed steadily on Drung. Hiding behind him, Lan’ara could feel how tense his big, muscular body was—as though he was preparing to fight the Trollox if he had to.
“He was?” Understanding suddenly filled Laxah’s sharp gray eyes.
“Yes, but I won the bid,” Need growled. “The girl is mine,” he added, glaring up at Drung.
“And how much do you know about her?” the Trollox demanded. “You might have gotten the girl but I got her file, so I did. Tell me, Kindred, has she started making nectar yet? Has she started having the Touch Cravings? What about the Shivers—or the Thirst?”
“What do you know about it?” Need demanded.
“Afraid I can’t tell you that.” All three pairs of greedy eyes focused on Lan’ara again. “Though maybe I’d be willing to let you have a peep at the file for a night with the girl. Just one night wouldn’t hurt. I wouldn’t stretch her out too much—just put the tip in, I would.”
“You stay away from her!” Need snarled angrily. “Or by the Goddess, I’ll rip off every one of your fucking heads and your shaft and feed them to the deep dark outside!”
“All right, all right—enough posturing.” Captain Glo’ll’s smooth voice was stern. “You meat-creatures are always so possessive,” he scolded, frowning as he shed leaves all over the moss carpet. “Drung, the girl belongs to Needrix, who bought her fair and square and I don’t want to hear anything more about it. Now—let’s all take our places at the table, shall we? Whose turn was it to cook tonight?”
“My turn,” Kreeva, the female half of the Duplo answered. “But Krax wouldn’t help me, so I’m afraid it’s just turny-flips tonight.”
“What do you mean, I wouldn’t help you?” the male part of the Duplo demanded as they all took their seats around the table. “I always help you!”
“No, you don’t!” the female half snapped back. “You’re lazy! You’d rather play on your entertainment link than lift a hand to chop a vegetable once in a while.”
The Duplo went on arguing with itself as he/she passed out the food, which appeared to be a kind of flat bread folded over with filling inside, and poured everyone a glass of weak green wine.
Lan’ara found herself seated at the far left side of the table with Need across from her, Captain Glo’ll to her right, and Laxah to her left. Drung, to her great relief, sat at the far other end of the table on the thick wooden stool she’d noticed when they first came in.
“So Need bought you in order to keep Drung from getting his filthy paws on you?” Laxah demanded, before Lan’ara could even take the first bite of her turny-flip.
“Yes, exactly,” she said quickly, wishing the other woman would just let the subject drop. “And I cannot tell you how grateful I am to my Lord for rescuing me.”
Laxah snorted.
“There you go with that ‘my Lord’ nonsense again! Does he really want you to call him that, as though he was some kind of royalty?”
“No, I don’t,” Need growled before Lan’ara could answer. “But it seems she can’t break herself of it, no matter how often I tell her to just call me by my name.”
“It’s disrespectful to call your owner or husband by his first name,” Lan’ara objected. “Or so I was taught,” she added quickly, not wanting to give offense.
“And who taught you that?” Laxah demanded.
“The instructors at the Twyleth Tigg Academy,” Lan’ara said promptly. “Where I have been attending for the past five cycles, ever since I was fourteen.”
“The Goddess preserve us—you’re naught but a child!” Laxah exclaimed. “How awful for you to be bought and sold. And sold again,” she added, frowning at Need. “For aren’t those your plans for her?”
“It’s not like that,” Need growled. “The girl already has an agreement with some rich old bastard on Genu Six. I just promised to help her
get there—that’s all.”
“For a tidy sum, I’m sure,” Laxah remarked.
“For whatever he’ll pay,” Need answered. “Tidy sum or not, she’s got to go. Can’t have her hanging around The Dark Star any longer than absolutely necessary.”
“Why…oh. I see,” Laxah followed his gaze to Drung, who was now eating, seemingly as noisily and messily as possible. Flecks of food were coating all three of his mouths, for he had three of the turny-flips and was shoving bites of them into three eager faces at once.
“Exactly. Now you see—after accusing me of being a Goddess-damned female abuser and rapist!”
“I…may have been wrong about that,” Laxah said stiffly. “If so, then I apologize.” She poked a finger at him. “But I still want the girl in my med station for a full exam no later than tomorrow. And I’ll need her medical history too.”
“What? Why do you need all that?” Need demanded.
“Because while she’s part of The Dark Star’s crew, she’s also my responsibility,” Laxah said sternly. “I have to know how to keep her healthy, don’t I? So I’ll need her genetics scan and history, any known allergies either to foods or medications, any predisposition to illnesses—that kind of thing.”
“I’m afraid I don’t have any of that with me,” Lan’ara told her. “Though I can tell you I’m allergic to jujah fruit—it makes me break out in hives. As for my genetic scan and history, well… I suppose it might be in my, uh, file.” She cast a quick glance at Drung, who was chewing with all three mouths open—a nauseating sight that made her look away fast.
“And good luck getting her file away from that big bastard,” Need growled.
Laxah frowned.
“How is it that you bought the girl while that waste-of-oxygen, Drung, got her file?” she demanded.
“Didn’t know there was a file that went with her,” Need said, frowning. He looked at Lan’ara. “Did you know that fucking slaver had a file on you?”
“I knew that our files were taken when the pirates broke into the academy and kidnapped us,” Lan’ara said carefully. “They seemed to think we would be worth more than way—because all our files stated that we were, er, verified virgins.”
Her cheeks got hot and she thought again of how she might not technically qualify as a virgin anymore—not now that her maidenhead was gone.
“Well I wish to the Goddess I’d known it,” Need grumbled. “The file might tell us…”
“Tell you what?” Laxah asked, narrowing her eyes.
“Tell us what you want to know, my Lady,” Lan’ara said quickly, though she knew very well that her genetic history wasn’t what the big Kindred was talking about. No doubt he wanted to know as much as she did why her breasts had begun producing nectar when she was aroused.
They were dry now—at least, she didn’t feel herself leaking in any way. But Lan’ara wondered if the sticky sweet amber liquid would start leaking out again if she was sexually stimulated.
Also, hadn’t the Trollox said something about “Touch Cravings?” Even now Lan’ara could feel herself longing to lean across the table and reach for the Kindred’s big hand. She thought longingly of how good it felt to be held in his strong arms, of how warm his skin was, and how good he smelled—a deep, spicy scent that was strangely compelling and somehow entirely masculine.
No, stop it! she scolded herself. There’s no use in wishing to touch him or wishing for him to touch you. He swore he wouldn’t, remember? He swore never to touch you again. Besides, you haven’t even known him an entire solar day yet. Why are you letting yourself get so attached to a strange male who just wants to get rid of you?
She couldn’t answer that question so she decided not to think of it anymore. Instead she concentrated on eating her turny-flip—which was well-worth concentrating on.
The bread it was made of was dark golden brown with a chewy, crispy outer crust and a pillowy interior. The filling was in two parts—the first layer was some crumbly white stuff which was cheesy and salty and tangy. The second layer was a mixture of coarsely cubed, crispy vegetables in some kind of brown, vinegary paste. The two layers shouldn’t have gone together at all, but somehow they did and the crispy chew of the bread they were wrapped in rounded out each mouthful to make the turny-flips unexpectedly delicious.
“This food is wonderful,” she remarked to Captain Glo’ll, who was eating something entirely different. His plate appeared to be filled with a cake of rich, loamy dirt and he was drinking muddy water instead of the weak green wine the Duplo had filled everyone else’s glass with.
“Oh, do you like it my dear?” he asked, popping a clod of dirt into his mouth and chewing with the sound of breaking branches and grinding grit. “I never eat meat-creature food myself, but I’m told that some of my crew are better at preparing it than others.”
“Really? Does everyone take turns making the meals, then?” Lan’ara asked, looking around the table.
“Everyone but Drung,” Laxah told her. “Trollox food is unbelievably foul. If we let him cook, the whole ship would smell like a garbage scow. Not to mention the fact I wouldn’t put anything in my mouth that he’d had his filthy paws on.” She shuddered as she cast a glance at the hulking Trollox, who was on his third helping of turny-flips with all three heads. “I don’t know why Captain Glo’ll keeps him around at all.”
“Now, Med Tech Laxah, as I have explained before on numerous occasions, Drung is the kind of blunt instrument which is necessary in the kind of endeavor we are engaged in,” Glo’ll remarked, catching her words. “When one specializes in hard to get items, one often needs the muscle to back up a deal, in case things go badly. And you must admit that the sight of our three-headed Second Mate strikes fear into the hearts of those who might consider reneging on their part of the bargain when we trade.”
“Right, right,” Laxah said sourly. “I just wish you could have found someone with muscle who also has integrity.”
“First Mate Needrix fits that description,” the captain said tranquilly. “But a Master Navigator is difficult to come by and I don’t choose to risk him by using him in that capacity.”
“Thanks, Captain, but you know I’m always ready to back you up,” Need said. Taking a bite of his own turny-flip he said, “These aren’t bad, for all that Krax and Kreeva is always arguing with him/herself when it’s his/her turn for cooking duty.”
“I’m not bad at cooking and baking myself,” Lan’ara said cautiously. “Perhaps I could help with that duty while I’m on board?” She looked hopefully at Need as she spoke, hoping her new owner might allow it. She loved to cook and without something to do to keep her busy, it was going to be a long trip to Genu Six.
“I suppose it can’t hurt,” he said grudgingly. “You can help me next time it’s my turn. The Goddess knows, I don’t much care for it.”
“Not to mention you always make the same thing,” Laxah pointed out sourly. “Yerba stew with peebla bread. Don’t get me wrong—it’s tasty the first hundred or so times you eat it. But it does get old after a while.”
The big Kindred shrugged, his broad shoulders rolling.
“It’s the only thing I know how to make reliably without fucking it up. Let me know if you want me to experiment with your next dinner and I’ll try something new.”
Laxah sighed.
“No, never mind. Though maybe we can hope for something more if our new crew member is as good as cooking as she says she is.” She cast a sharp glance at Lan’ara who felt her cheeks get hot at the sudden scrutiny.
“I always made good grades in my cooking and baking classes, my Lady,” she said quickly. “If you give me an idea of what you like, I’ll do my best to please you.”
“My Lady?” The med tech widened her eyes in apparent horror. “No, please don’t call me that!”
“Now you know how I feel,” Need growled, but without malice. When he glanced at Lan’ara, one corner of his mouth had ticked up into what was almost a grin. “I’ve tried bu
t I can’t seem to break her of the damn habit.”
“I’m sorry,” Lan’ara said humbly. “I’m only doing as I was taught at the Twyleth Tigg Academy. My form of address is meant to be respectful and courteous and to put people at ease.” She hung her head. “But it seems to have the opposite effect, here.”
“Well I find it charming to be called ‘my Lord Captain,’” Glo’ll remarked, smiling and sprouting a few more roses from his vine-covered chest. “You may continue to address me that way if it pleases you, my dear,” he told Lan’ara.
“Thank you, my Lord Captain,” she said, bowing her head briefly. “You are too kind.”
“And you are too charming! Quite the loveliest meat-based creature I’ve ever met,” he said graciously, handing her the roses to add to her bouquet.
Lan’ara felt her cheeks heat in a blush as she accepted the flowers and nodded her thanks again.
The meal was almost over by then, everyone having finished their turny-flips and their weak green wine which Lan’ara had heard the Duplo call flup while he/she was serving it.
“Well, that was a lovely meal and I’m glad, as always, to have shared it with my crew,” Captain Glo’ll remarked, raising his voice to be heard above the sound of Drung, who still had two heads that were chewing messily and noisily.
All the other crew members stopped what they were doing and gave him their undivided attention.
“I have only two announcements,” he went on. “First, our next stop will be in the Goddess’s Cloak Galaxy, where there is a very lucrative opportunity to be had buying and selling Yarrow root.”
“Yarrow root?” Laxah frowned. “That can have some nasty side effects.”
“Only about one percent of the time,” Captain Glo’ll said serenely. “Which makes it a low-risk controlled substance as well as an extremely desirable one—perfect for our purposes. We ought to make a tidy profit off of it, once First Mate Needrix finds us a buyer.”
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