Dredge

by Lula Monk

  The three aliens across the table nodded in unison. Freaky.

  “Okay. Good. So, that is another thing human women may find disconcerting. I know I for one was shocked to learn how quickly my own pregnancy was progressing.”

  “It is true,” said Dredge. “She was very overcome at the thought of bearing forth my offspring in such a short time. Her precise words were: ‘I don’t feel ready.’”

  “And I didn’t,” said Samantha. “But know that Dredge has explained it to me, and I understand, I feel much better about the shorter gestational period. My own experience makes me wonder: are your clients or healers informing my kind about what is happening with their bodies?”

  Arachne and Valx looked at Slep. The insectoid squirmed in his chair.

  “It is not likely,” he admitted.

  “And there we have the primary root of the matter. You are selling species to your clients, Earth women who do not know where they are or what is happening to them. Then, when they adjust to their new way of life, as best they can, there is the added surprise that they are pregnant. Some for as short a time as three weeks, and some as for as long as three years.” Samantha shuddered at that. Being pregnant for three years must be rough stuff.

  “Are you suggesting we give new product explicit insights as to what will be occurring during their stay on the Hub?” asked Arachne. Samantha was pleased that the spider woman was asking such good questions, and that she seemed to be doing so genuinely.

  “I think they should know what will happen to them, yes,” said Samantha, “but I also think that information needs to come from someone of their own kind. Sort of like an orientation into life as a human breeder.”

  God, could those words sound any more fucking disgusting?

  “And you would be willing to let your own breeder undertake this task, Bright One?” Slep asked Dredge.

  “I would,” the Glim said instantly. “I trust Samantha in every regard. Besides, she strongly feels that this is something that is important to her people. I can sympathize with such a sensation.”

  Samantha’s heart swelled with pity and pride and l–

  With pity and pride.

  “Thanks,” she whispered under her breath. Dredge squeezed her hand in response.

  “So, you would like to orient new product to their new purpose in the universe,” said Valx. “What else is in this proposal of yours?”

  Samantha had this part down. She’d been going over it in her mind for hours, because this was to be the most crucial part of her secret plan, the plan that would save them all.

  “Human bodies undergo many changes during the gestational period. Our bodies grow and stretch; our muscles shift. We begin producing milk to feed our babies wh–”

  “Offspring,” said all the creatures in the room at once.

  Oh my fuck.

  “—to feed our offspring when they are born. That’s a lot to contend with, especially cooped up in a small room where our bodies cannot get the exercise they need.”

  “Your bodies cannot supply the required energy needed to grow your own offspring back on Earth?” asked Arachne.

  “Well, our bodies can. We just need nutritious food and rest.”

  “Exercise is the opposite of rest,” said the spider woman.

  “True,” admitted Samantha. “But if our bodies are not strong enough to survive labor, you will have clients with new offspring and dead breeders.”

  “Dead products post-gestation are not our concern,” said the snot glob alien. “Dead breeders mean more credits in our accounts when the clients must purchase another human.”

  “This is why I wanted you two here for this meeting,” said Slep. “Hear out the Earth woman.”

  Whoa. Vouched for by the insectoid. No pressure, Samantha.

  “You are correct,” Samantha said, turning her head and addressing Valx. “Dead breeders do mean that you can just turn around and sell another, fresh human female to your client. But expiring products cause you to get a bad reputation, from my understanding.”

  Here she looked at Slep, who still had his claws steepled under his mandibles. He nodded in agreement.

  Samantha continued. “More money can be had if you are selling higher quality product, just once.”

  “One sale does not equate to the credits that could be earned by many,” said Arachne, her now-human face sneering.

  Yikes.

  “If word gets around that you are selling strong, virile human women who are guaranteed to survive labor, Earth women who are trained to willingly mate with your clients, to be their companions and the nurturers of their offspring . . . product that is guaranteed not to self-terminated once your clients return to their home planets, you could charge a premium for each Earth woman. Greater return of investment, higher customer satisfaction, better reputation overall.”

  Samantha looked at each alien in the face slowly, methodically, trying to drive her point home.

  “How do you plan to ensure these Earth women are strong enough to survive labor?” asked Valx.

  She’d already hashed out the details with Slep yesterday, but there were some finer points that she had thought of last night. Points that would play nicely into her plan for escape.

  “Our bodies need exercise, as I mentioned earlier. We need to both train our muscles and increase our stamina to push out your clients’ offspring.”

  Valx giggled in his seat, a disconcerting noise from such a gruesome looking creature. “We have extraction methods for offspring removal. There is no need to push.”

  Slep cleared his throat. “Actually, a review of our medical bay has revealed that our extraction methods result in breeder death two out of every five births. It would make more financial sense to do as this Earth woman,” he gestured at Samantha, “suggests and allow the humans to strengthen and prepare themselves for delivery.”

  Valx nodded, in agreement, but Arachne squinted her many eyes at Samantha, scrutinizing her. “You are certain such a thing will ensure no human woman dies in labor?”

  Samantha thought about her own pregnancy timeline. Less than two months. She would have them all free in two months. Yes, she was sure no woman would die in labor on the Hub.

  “I am confident.”

  Arachne gave her a dark look, but then inclined her head, giving her permission to continue.

  “I propose that you allow all human Earth women – even those in the Entertainment Sector – to exercise twice each rotation by walking the full perimeter of the Rim.”

  Arachne’s mandibles clicked angrily together, and Valx made his strange bubbling noises.

  “Such a thing is ill advised,” he gurgled.

  “It is foolish to allow so much product free range of the station! That is asking for insurrection at best or multiple pit jumpers at worse.”

  Samantha smiled serenely at them. “Slep has offered the use of several Ceph guards with faze guns at the entry to each sector. No woman will be able to sneak off the Rim and gain access to any other portion of the Hub.”

  “In addition,” added Slep, “the Earth women will be traveling in pairs, spaced out quite a distance, and their wrists will be secured to their partner’s by shackles.”

  Uh oh. Samantha had not caught this detail yesterday. It must have been something Slep and Dredge had spoken of while she waited in the receptionist’s office. She tried not to show her surprise. After all, she was propositioning for exercise for her fellow humans, not freedom. Socialization, not liberty.

  “Exactly,” she said, her voice almost a purr. “Five Earth miles, twice per day, will be enough to keep your breeders fit for labor and delivery and will give strength to your performers so they can more aptly execute the acts you require.”

  She still felt gross talking about the performers, the worst treated of the women on the Hub, in such flippant terms. But such a thing was required right now.

  “Ten miles per rotation seems a bit much,” offered Valx. “Perhaps just one trip around
the Rim.”

  To Samantha’s horror, Slep and Arachne were nodding as the blob alien spoke. They were agreeing with him.

  No. She’d done the math repeatedly last night. She needed them to do two rotations per day to make this work.

  “I would caution against one rotation only,” said Samantha, trying to sound as reasonable as possible. “You want your product to be capable breeders. No sense in shortchanging yourselves from the start. Besides, walking the Rim will give we Earth women ample time to socialize with our partners, the other woman to whom we will be chained.” The thought of walking the Rim in chains still set her teeth on edge. “And as you will recall, socializing with our own kind will help ensure we breeders are happy and as healthy as possible.”

  Everyone was silent for a long time.

  “It is a thing that is easily done,” said Arachne, finally.

  Samantha struggled to mask the relief on her face. She did not want to buckle under this shrewd spider woman’s gaze, and she definitely didn’t want to seem too eager.

  “But . . .,” said the spider woman, “I do suggest an amendment to these proposed outings to the Rim.”

  Chief Officer Slep lowered his claws, leaning attentively to his spidery companion. “And what amendment would that be?”

  “The Earth females may travel in pairs as this one suggests, but they should never walk with the same female twice.” Arachne lifted her human lips and sneered at Samantha, as though she had trapped Samantha in a clever little web.

  Samantha smiled at the spider woman. “My kind need socialization, a change of scenery, and exercise. That is all I ask for them. If you think it is best that we rotate out exercise partners, I understand the reservations that might elicit such an action.”

  Arachne preened, delighted to have bested Samantha. She turned her lithe arachnid body to Slep and Valx. The three began talking eagerly.

  Samantha grabbed Dredge’s hand, content.

  “I’m sorry you will not have the opportunity of getting to know another of your kind intimately . . . to make friends, as you had expressed interest in doing.”

  Samantha swiped at her eyes as though she were crying, as though the prospect brought her great sadness. But she wasn't sad. Not in the slightest.

  Two trips around the Rim each day, every time with a different woman. Her plan would spread like wildfire, with every Earth woman knowing the plan and her part in it within five days, ten trips around the Rim.

  This was exactly the outcome Samantha had wanted.

  Chapter 26

  Dredge

  Dredge woke up from a fitful bout of sleep, coughing bright and shimmering lifefluid into his hand.

  Thankfully, Samantha was gone for the first excursion around the Rim. Dredge had risen with her and dressed in his jumpsuit. He had even walked her to the end of the Breeding Sector corridor to queue up with the other human females. She had favored him with a squeeze of her hand and a smile before joining the others.

  He had held it together all that time, fighting back the overwhelming urge to hack and cough and wheeze. Once back in their room with the portal safely closed behind him, he succumbed to those sensations. Sleep had come as a welcome reprieve, but it had not lasted long.

  The disease coursing through his body would not let him have any peace.

  Another cough forced its way from his lungs to his throat and past his lips, causing his entire body to convulse. A searing pain pierced his head at the base of his skull.

  Dredge prayed to his gods as he reached back with a shaking hand, already knowing what he would find. The crack had grown once more, this time stretching three times its previous length. He palpated it gently with his fingertips; it now stretched from the joint of his skull and spine to just under his left ear.

  There would be no hiding this from Samantha, no more brushing off her questions. A wound of this size demanded an explanation, and Dredge loathed the thought of telling her the truth.

  She seemed to be growing accustomed to his presence, seemed to even enjoy being around him. During their last sleep cycle, he had awoken to discover that she was laying on his chest, her dark hair tickling his nose and rousing him from sleep. She was also offering to hold his hand more, tentatively at first but now confidently, as though clasping hands was the natural and perfect state of their being.

  Dredge felt overwhelming sadness engulf him, wave after wave threatening to drown him in despair.

  He had never made the connection before now, that clasping hands was as close as Samantha’s species came to the type of merging Glims did when they found a life mate. And Samantha had been voluntarily reaching out for Dredge’s hand for days.

  His heart radiated with the sensation he had come to assume was love. The Earth woman had been, in her own way, trying to show Dredge that she wanted a connection with him.

  A sharp cough rattled his ribs, and Dredge leaned back against the pillows with a sob.

  Fluid leaked from his eyes.

  Tears.

  He felt both blessed and cursed. To have found a creature like Samantha, one who was willing to provide him a Glimling to save his species and who felt affection for him, was beyond what Dredge could have ever hoped to earn.

  But for the disease that had put the wheel of fate in motion, that had necessitated Dredge to seek out a human breeder to purchase . . . for that same disease to now rip him away from Samantha so soon, possibly before he ever got to lay eyes on their offspring, was a curse.

  He felt cruelly used by his gods, and he longed to turn his face from them. But he couldn’t; he was pleased to have had Samantha’s love for even a short time than never at all.

  A hard banging sounded on the portal wall.

  Dredge rose from the bed, hastily wiping the lifefluid from his lips. He pressed his palm to the cold metal and watched the familiar green glow blossom around his hand.

  When the portal opened, a Ceph shoved Samantha inside. Dredge caught her as she stumbled forward.

  His brows drew together in anger.

  “Chief Officer Slep with be hearing of this!” he hissed at the Ceph as it shuffle-stomped away, its giant black eyeball looking listlessly in all directions.

  “Are you okay?” Dredge asked, surveying Samantha from head to foot. “Did he hurt you?”

  “No,” she said, breathing heavily. The glow in her abdomen pulsated, growing brighter and then dulling in time with the Earth woman’s heartbeat. “Do talk to Slep, though. I get why he wants to have guards at the entryways and guards to escort us back to our rooms, but shit. They don’t have to be so rough.”

  “No, they don’t,” agreed Dredge, still assessing Samantha for damage. He bent over to survey her legs, and another bout of coughing overtook him. He fell to his knees, and Samantha fell with him.

  She’d fallen because of him. Curses!

  Dredge had no time to wallow in his regret, for the coughing was a demanding creature, requiring all his focus and attention. He pressed his forehead to the cool floor, each cough sending small droplets of his lifefluid spewing from his mouth to coat the stones.

  “Dredge,” Samantha said, her tone full of worry. She had her hand on his back, rubbing it.

  He knew she meant the action to be comforting, but Dredge just felt stifled. He tried to sit up to ease her away, but another cough clawed its way up his throat. His head smacked against the floor once more, this time sending a shooting pain lancing through his skull.

  When he was recovered enough to open his eyes, Dredge saw a bright light shining and shimmering in the small pools of lifefluid beneath him. His hand shot up to his forehead, feeling the tender flesh there. Another crack.

  He sat back on his knees, his chest heaving. He knew he had lifefluid on his chin, his cheeks, his fingertips. He just did not have the energy to hide it.

  When he looked up at Samantha, he saw the horror on her face.

  “It is nothing to worry about,” Dredge said weakly.

  Samantha was shaking.
“You . . . You have it, don’t you?”

  Dredge shook his head, sending sharp pains ricocheting across the inside of his head, as though his brain were beating against the insides of his skull. “No.”

  “Don’t lie to me, Dredge.” Her voice was hard and demanding, but he heard the terror underneath. The panic.

  “It is truly nothing about which to worry,” he reaffirmed. This denial sounded much more confident than the last, and Dredge wiped his mouth with a barely shaking hand.

  There.

  He was containing it, hiding the truth once more so Samantha need not worry. He would need to tell many lies to try to make the sight she had just seen fade from her memory, but he was willing to do it. Anything to make her happy. She had more important things to worry about. Like their Glimling.

  Dredge stared at the soft light radiating from the Earth woman’s abdomen and smiled. He could almost just make out the slightest of bumps. Their offspring was growing, and quickly too.

  He reached out a hand for Samantha, the movement hurting his ribs and bringing forth another cough.

  Samantha rushed to him, scooting forward on her knees so quickly she almost slammed into him. Her arms wrapped around his torso, clinging to him as if she were the one drowning in a giant ocean of despair and he were the life raft, not the other way around.

  Dredge breathed in the sweet, clean scent of her hair. For a moment, this was all he wanted in all the universe. To simply exist in the same space as Samantha, no thoughts of illness or offspring or the saving of a species and planet. He wanted to just simply be with her, as Glim and Earth woman. But another cough shattered the fantasy Dredge was crafting in his mind.

  He lifted his hand to cover his mouth, but small droplets of lifefluid escaped, settling as small shimmering points of light in Samantha’s hair.

  “You are sick,” said his Earth woman, choking on the words. “We need to get you to the healer.”

  “No,” said Dredge, pulling Samantha closer to him. He wanted only to hold on to his life raft for just a little while longer.

  “Don’t lie to me, Dredge.” Samantha was staring up at him, her eyes cold with fury and wide with panic. “The healers will be able to help you. They must, right? You are aa client of the Hub.”