Dredge

by Lula Monk

  The light shining from the crack on his skull caught her attention once more, and realization dawned on her as bright as the Milky Way sun she’d not laid eyes on in weeks.

  Dredge had the disease.

  She gave him a panicked look, and it was obvious he realized she knew.

  “Well?” prompted Chief Officer Slep.

  Samantha jumped. For a brief moment, she had forgotten where they were or whom they were with. Her thoughts had been solely focused on Dredge.

  “I’m sorry,” she said sheepishly to the insectoid across the table. “I suppose I am so loyal to Dredge because he earned it.”

  Slep’s abdomen began to vibrate, rattling the table. He adjusted himself, and the clattering of the metal legs against the floor stopped.

  “Explain,” he commanded.

  “Well,” Samantha began, struggling for the right words. “From the moment he purchased me from the auction block, he has been kind to me. Attentive. He always makes sure I have what I need and that I am comfortable. And . . . and he didn’t pressure me to, you know, mate until I was ready.”

  Slep tapped his mandibles thoughtfully. “Did the mating help to enamor you to him?”

  Samantha’s browsed creased with confusion. “I don’t understand.”

  “Was the mating pleasing to your sex organs? Did you experience release?”

  Molten lava burned in Samantha’s cheeks. Bad pun. For all she knew there were alien lava creatures in space. But she was certain her embarrassment in this exact moment caused her face to burn hotter than even a fiery lava alien.

  Dredge spoke up. “I can confirm. Samantha did in fact experience release. Twice.”

  She shot Dredge a dirty look.

  Chief Officer Slep made a pleased trilling noise, his mandibles tapping together violently. “Wonderful! So that is the key, yes? My clients must pleasure their products efficiently?”

  Samantha shook her head vigorously. “No!”

  The insectoid leaned across the table, its segmented body twisting and bending at the joints like a snake. “Enlighten me then, Earth woman. If pleasurable sex is not the solution to prevent products from self-exterminating, what is?”

  Samantha swallowed nervously. And then her grand plan came into her mind. Her cognitive gears began whirling and twirling around, changing key elements of the plan and cranking out new ones.

  Holy shit, this might work.

  “Environment,” she blurted out.

  Slep leaned back, his claws steepled beneath his mandibles once more. “Elaborate.”

  “Well, I haven’t seen any other human women except during an auction and then yesterday . . .” She looked away, unable to look the insectoid in the eyes with thoughts of those dancing women in her mind. Secondhand embarrassment.

  “During the live performance,” said Slep, finishing her sentence for her. “Yes, we needed to boost moral after the pit jumping incident.”

  “Pit jumping incident?” asked Samantha

  Dredge quickly leaned over and whispered into her ear. “Later.”

  She gave him a hard look but nodded.

  “Right,” she said slowly, turning her attention back to Slep. “The other women — the, uh, post-purchased product — are they all just sitting around locked in their rooms?”

  “Yes,” said Slep. “Or they are commissioned to the Entertainment Sector.”

  Samantha tried to hide her shiver. “I think that is part of the problem.”

  “Elaborate,” commanded the insectoid, but now he leaned forward, listening attentively.

  “Well, if the women aren’t being treated as well as Dredge treats me,” another squeeze of the hand from her Glim, “and if they are forced to stay confined to their rooms all of the time, it’s no wonder they want to . . . what did you call it?”

  “Self-exterminate.”

  “Right. It’s no wonder they’d want to self-exterminate. Fear, missing Earth, isolation, not seeing anyone of their own kind . . . all these things can breed depression.” When Slep said nothing, she continued. “Back on Earth, people who have severe depression and who don’t get treatment can have what we humans call suicidal tendencies.”

  More silence.

  “The overwhelming urge to self-exterminate.”

  Both aliens in the room made sounds of understanding.

  “So other than treating them kindly and pleasing their sex organs—"

  “That part isn’t a big deal,” Samantha said, interrupting Slep. The last thing she wanted was overzealous aliens trying to pleasure their Earth women and making a bad rape situation a hundred times worse by trying too hard.

  Slep’s antennae twitched.

  “Don’t interrupt him,” cautioned Dredge quietly beside her.

  “Sorry,” Samantha told the insectoid, her face flushing with embarrassment and more than a little fear.

  “As I was saying, other than treating them kindly and pleasing their sex organs — a necessary part of the forthcoming edict as it has fused you to your owner quite well — what else do you suggest, Earth woman Samantha?”

  The sound of this giant bug hissing her name made Samantha’s insides crawl. She placed a hand protectively over her shining abdomen.

  She gave Chief Officer Slep’s question some thought. It didn’t take long to know exactly what she would say, even though she already felt dirty and wrong saying it. People who were genuinely suicidal needed medication and active therapy, neither of which she would suggest to this fearsome, powerful business alien. So, instead, she said the thing people with depression hated to hear: “They need a change of scenery.”

  “Elaborate,” said Slep once more.

  God, what is that, his favorite word? Samantha cleared her throat. She needed to sell this, make it good. Her plan now hinged upon it.

  “Well, Dredge takes me out of the room pretty frequently, to walk to the food court and such. He even took me to the Rim yesterday, to get in exercise to prepare for the baby.”

  “Yes, your owner mentioned such a thing to me. How does this exercise help you prepare for labor?”

  “Exercise helps keep human female bodies strong, so when the time comes, we have the muscles we need to push the baby . . . err offspring . . . out.”

  Slep waved a claw dismissively. “We can extract the offspring. This is not a concern.”

  Samantha’s mind worked double time. “What kind of extraction?”

  “We typically excise offspring from a cut in the human female’s abdomen.”

  “Oh,” said Samantha, thickening her tone with regret. She pressed her hand to her cheek and shook her head ruefully, channeling her inner Scarlet O’Hara. “That’s no good.”

  Slep leaned forward rapidly, making Samantha dart back in her chair. His barbed stinger flicked from side to side. “Why? Why is this method of extraction negative?”

  Samantha took a shaky breath. When she spoke, she tried to sound more confident than she felt.

  “Rips the human woman’s abdominal muscles. Makes her weaker for the next time. May not be able to maintain another successful pregnancy. Plus, she’ll need time to recover from the wound. That’s more time your client will have to wait before he can mate with her again. Not to mention the risk of wound infection and even death.”

  Slep scoffed. “Good. If their human dies, they return to Galactic Continuity to purchase anew.”

  Asshole. Samantha blinked, trying to smother the flaming daggers she wanted to glare at the insect CEO dick across the table.

  Breath in, breath out.

  “That has to be bad for business though, doesn’t it?”

  Slep’s stinger quivered again. “Elaborate.”

  Wow. That’s getting old fast. “If Earth women die after one breeding, perhaps your buyers will start to think you offer inferior product.”

  Slep shrugged his spiked shoulders. “Galactic Continuity is a fluid concept. We go where our buyers want us to go. If they no longer desire Earth women, we will simply find a
nother planet from which to harvest our product.”

  She fought hard to keep the sneer from her face. “That would be a waste though, don’t you think?”

  “Elaborate,” commanded Slep, this time much less enthusiastically.

  Breath in, breath out.

  “You already have an established system on Earth. Clean supply for a rampant demand.”

  Slep nodded.

  “What if I could help you ensure the Earth women on the Hub are healthy happy breeders? What if—"

  “This plan does not appeal to me. As I said, there is more product to be obtained if such a thing is required. More credits to be earned by selling more product anyway.” Slep rose from his seat.

  Samantha’s heart thundered in her chest. She stood too, glaring up into Slep’s multifaceted eyes. “What if I told you I could help you ensure the Earth women are healthy and happy breeders—"

  “This meeting is done,” said Slep skittering towards the entry portal.

  “— that you could charge triple for,” finished Samantha.

  Chief Officer Slep stopped. He turned his body, each segment slowly rotating until he was facing Samantha once more.

  She didn’t have much time to decide how to sell this. She hoped what came out of her mouth next would be enough to sway him.

  “Sure, you could keep harvesting females from Earth, but I imagine that is pretty costly, traveling all that distance. Plus, there’s always the risk that your workers could get caught when abducting the women.”

  “Procuring the necessary raw material,” corrected Slep, “and there is no risk of that.”

  Samantha made note of this fact. ‘No risk’ implied Galactic Continuity had a deep stealth method of entering Earth’s orbit, landing their transport vessel up to thirty times — because none of the women were from the same place — and camouflaging the Cephs who did the actual abducting.

  Samantha’s skin crawled just imagining the tentacled guards outside. To hide those big boys plus a spaceship that could hold that many women . . . Galactic Continuity must have some seriously advanced tech.

  “At any rate,” she continued hurriedly before she lost the insectoid’s attention again. “It is true that many Earth women here on the Hub are . . . financial risks, right? And if they succeed in self-exterminating before giving birth, you must be left with some pretty unhappy clients.”

  Slep hissed and tapped his mandibles together. “Such things are a nuisance best avoided. We have immobilization containers now, but even they are not one-hundred-percent effective.”

  Samantha didn’t even want to imagine what those were like. Dredge’s transport pod was bad enough. “Must give your company a bad reputation when something like that happens, huh?”

  Slep’s pincers rattled.

  “Don’t provoke him,” whispered Dredge sharply.

  She cut her eyes over to him, hoping her steely gaze was enough to get him to shut his trap for a second. She wanted the insectoid to see his current situation with what he called ‘products’ to be as bleak as possible, so her solution would seem like a bright light at the end of a very dark tunnel.

  “Yes,” admitted Slep with a twitch of his antennae. “Word of such occurrences does spread rapidly. Hard to contain the ire of creatures who are the last of their kind. They already have so much for which to be angry. Feeling as if they were sold defective merchandise often sets them over the edge.”

  Samantha felt like a cat who’d cornered a mouse. It was time to pounce.

  Sitting up straighter in her chair, she smiled at Chief Officer Slep. “My methods would be almost guaranteed to prevent Earth women from self-exterminating, thereby increasing consumer confidence in your product and allowing you to sell each new human as a bonafide, one-hundred-percent happy, healthy, life-long breeder.”

  “And you think patrons would be willing to pay triple for this assurance?”

  “I paid more than triple for Samantha,” Dredge said softly.

  Samantha gasped. She hadn’t known this.

  Slep’s abdomen was vibrating wildly now, the ensuing buzzing setting the table legs to popping against the floor once more. He shouted orders to the receptionist who quickly ushered in with a digipad. The insectoid punched in a series of letters and numbers, and then his vibrating stopped.

  He looked up at Dredge. “Our books confirm your assertion. Tell me: why did you pay so much for this Earth woman without knowing first that she would be a success?”

  Dredge smiled confidently, but Samantha could feel the increased pressure in the hold he had of her hand. “I am a Glim, Chief Office Slep. We know much and see more than most other lifeforms.”

  “And do you think your Earth woman’s proposal has merit? Do you think she can increase product stability and subsequently consumer confidence in our company?” The insectoid’s claws snapped with anticipation.

  Dredge lifted his free hand in a noncommittal gesture. Almost like a shrug. “You are the one who runs this business, Slep. All I know is I have confidence in Samantha. She is a content, strong breeder who is perfectly happy to be the life-giver of my Glimling and save my species. You said so yourself the last time we met: such a thing is rare. I think any client of yours would be happy to pay well over triple of your current asking price if such a thing could be guaranteed.

  “Besides, Samantha gives me companionship, something I have sorely missed since most of the female Glims dulled and fragmented.”

  Dredge gave her a look of longing and light and . . . no. Samantha couldn’t even think the other ‘l’ word she saw in his gaze. The Glim turned back to Slep. “You could charge a premium for that sort of companionship.”

  Slep’s entire body vibrated, and he threw his thin arms wide, standing from the chair to allow his body to move freely. Even his antennae twitched happily. The rattling sound of his segments clinking together reached a crescendo and then suddenly stopped. He slammed his thick, meaty claws on the metal tabletop. The sound echoed in the small space of the room.

  “This is a good plan,” he said, his claws still pressed to the shining metal. He leaned forward until his upper half stretched across the table and towered over Samantha and Dredge. Samantha felt like every single lens of his multifaceted eyes was trained directly at her.

  “Now,” said Chief Officer Slep, his voice low and hungry. “Tell me this methodology of yours. How will you increase the quality of Galactic Continuity’s product?”

  Samantha took a deep breath and then revealed the newest part of her plan.

  Chapter 24

  Dredge

  Samantha sat in one of the room’s two chairs, staring out at the starfield as she brushed her hair. It had taken Dredge a bit of searching before he had found the appropriate tool she’d needed for such a task, but as he watched her peacefully comb through her tresses, it was worth the search.

  He marveled at how intelligent his companion was, for that is how he had come to see Samantha – as his companion, not his property.

  Her proposition to Chief Officer Slep was well-thought-out and seemed likely to help both the Earth women accommodate to their new lives as well as increase Galactic Continuity’s profit.

  Dredge knew the former was all Samantha was concerned with. It brought her great pain to see members of her species so disadvantaged, so used and broken.

  After thoroughly presenting her plan to Slep, Samantha had requested statistical analyses of the human lifeforms on the Hub. Where they were positioned, what roles they had, how long they had been property of Galactic Continuity.

  Slep had been hesitant to relinquish such information at first, but Samantha had yet again made a compelling argument; if she knew every human on the Hub and that woman’s particular circumstances, she could create tailored plans for the women who were most in jeopardy. She had also mentioned to Slep about formulating statistical data to help track the progress of her proposed initiative, a task that could only be completed if she had the relevant raw data.

&nb
sp; In the end, the Chief Officer of Galactic Continuity had agreed to the Earth woman’s terms. One final meeting with him in one rotation would solidify the details of the proposal, and Samantha could begin.

  Dredge worried about the strain such work would put on her body and whether it would jeopardize their Glimling, but Samantha had instructed him not to be concerned. He was determined to do just that.

  Though, admittedly, such a thing was difficult. Dredge had meant what he’d said to Slep. Samantha was his constant companion, and her cheerful demeanor and kindness to him was something Dredge had not even realized he’d needed to soothe his soul.

  “Are you just going to stand back there staring at me all day?” asked Samantha.

  Dredge flinched. He had not seen her observing him in the reflection of the transparent wall. “We do not observe time by days, Samantha.”

  She rolled her eyes in the sarcastic way Dredge had begun to find endearing. “Fine. Are you just going to stand there and look at me for a full rotation?” She winked at him, and his insides felt strange, as if they were melting.

  Dredge pulled up the other chair and sat beside her. “Why do you stare out at the starfield so frequently? I thought you were under the impression all stars look the same? Observing so much sameness must become dull after a while.”

  She glanced at him from under her lashes, bashful. “I spoke too hastily before. In all honesty, I love gazing out at the stars. I have ever since I was a kid. Not that you can see many stars in the middle of Dallas.” She laughed, a sound Dredge found most pleasing. She ran the brush through her long hair and paused half away.

  “Do you think I can do this Dredge?” Her voice sounded weak, afraid.

  Dredge put his hand on her shoulder, the closest action he came to showing outward affection. Excepting that kiss he had planted on top of her head in an unguarded moment, when he thought she needed reassurance. “All will be well, Samantha. Your proposition to Chief Officer Slep was sound, and I think it does indeed have merit. You are wise. I think your plan will help your people.”