Still smiling, Richter held up his palms, as if the whole thing was out of his hands. He went back to that businesslike tone, as if kidnapping Jet and handing her over to murderous lizard-skins was just another day on the job.
“Bottom line is,” he added. “I found you, I caught you, and given the terms of my agreement with them, you belong to The Royals now. You’ve been officially bagged and tagged, pet. You’ll now have to be indentured to them in some way.”
He shrugged, studying her face, possibly for reaction.
“You’ll be given work,” he said. “That’s just how they do things there, in the Green Zone. Everyone gets a job. It’s how things are run there, even with humans.”
“What about the humans they eat?” she said coldly.
Richter smiled, shaking his head as he laid his arms on the table. “Despite the myths, Nirreth don’t eat humans, Jet. Not anymore. They keep them as pets.”
He grinned at her, inclining his head.
“For you, I’d like that not to be in the usual way.”
He indicated towards her body with one hand.
It took a second for his words to sink in.
Then Jet felt her cheeks flush hotly.
Truthfully, she’d thought he was bullshitting about that, about Nirreth liking human women. She’d heard rumors of course, but Jet always figured that was something the rebels made up to scare and anger people. Accusing your enemy of rape was as old as time, and anyway, it just struck her as too weird to be true.
Why wouldn’t Nirreth just do that with their own kind? Humans had to be as weird-looking to them as Nirreth were to humans.
“You've got to be––” she began in a taut voice.
“––For females, I mean,” he said, cutting her off.
Smiling at the look on her face, he seemed pleased that he'd gotten a reaction.
“Anyway, pet,” he added more cheerfully. “You’ll be happy to know, I’m trying to convince my friends in the Green Zone to give you a shot at fulfilling that special order of mine. Which means a different kind of job. A job that other humans couldn’t do. Not even other human females of your age.”
“And what job would that be?” Jet said warily.
“Protection detail,” Richter answered at once. “In part.”
At Jet’s incredulous look, Richter held up a hand to indicate he wasn’t finished.
“…And possibly some recreational matches. To entertain our hosts.” He grinned, looking her over with another smirk. “With the right costume, I suspect you’ll be absolutely perfect, kitten. In any case, once they get a good look at you, I’m sure they’ll be thrilled to consider you as a candidate. Especially if you're good enough with that sword to be entertaining.”
“Recreational matches…” Jet’s mind whirled around his words, unable to make sense of them at first.
Then her mouth firmed into a line.
“You mean the Rings?” She heard the incredulousness in her voice. “You want me to fight in the Rings? That was the special order?”
“It was, indeed,” he said, smiling.
“But I thought that was mainly animals… and, well… men,” she said. “Big men.”
“That’s been the case so far, it’s true,” he acknowledged, nodding. “But lately, there’s been an expressed interest in seeing some of the older human fighting styles. And…” He smiled at her again. “…Somewhat more exotic warriors thrown into the mix. Female humans were specifically mentioned, as something fight connoisseurs would like to see. You fit all of these criteria quite nicely, Jet.”
“You want me to fight in the Rings?” Her mind still couldn’t quite wrap around that. “So you do intend to kill me.”
Folding his arms, he gave her another wry smile. “You have so little confidence in your abilities, then?”
“For crying out loud. I’m not stupid! Sooner or later, everyone slips. Everyone meets an opponent better than them. Or has a bad day.” Jet’s mouth hardened. “Not to mention, a lot of the humans they throw in the Rings are obviously meant to be blood sport. They’re there to die. They’re chosen to get ripped to pieces.”
“True,” he said, smiling.
His eyes remained on hers, thoughtful.
Jet glared back at him. “Eventually, everyone dies in the Rings, Richter.”
“No,” he said, holding up a hand and shaking his head. “That’s not true. I happen to know that’s patently false, in fact, Jet. And it doesn’t have to be that way for you. I wouldn’t get too worked up until you know a little more about how the Rings work, and how many contestants are still banging around the Green Zones, living the high life. I would wait until you hear how human and Nirreth contestants are treated… and what is expected of them.”
Jet didn’t answer.
Jaw clenched, she stared at the bulkhead without seeing it.
She’d known she would die, if they ever captured her.
Somehow, the possibility of doing it on stage, in front of thousands, maybe even millions of watching Nirreth, never occurred to her.
It was worse than that, though.
The settlement picked up those broadcasts.
Human skags watched the Rings, on stolen and rebuilt receivers and monitors. Those stolen broadcasts were the only reason Jet knew about the Ring at all. Everyone watched them. Entertainment was scarce in the Longhouse, and people bet on the bigger matches, especially the ones where Nirreth fought Nirreth. The thought of her mother, brother, and friends watching her die, live, on Nirreth television, broadcast as Nirreth entertainment, made her feel more than a little queasy. She could almost see them in her mind’s eye, gaping up at the screen as she bled out across their scratched and rebuilt monitors, sitting silent together in the Longhouse.
Her mom and brother didn’t normally watch those broadcasts, but the settlement was small. The Longhouse was even smaller.
If someone saw her on there, they’d run straight to her family, first thing.
They’d assume Jet’s mother would want to know.
“Don’t worry about this, Jet.” Richter leaned closer, his voice lowering in reassurance. “Not right now. For one thing, it’s not even a done deal yet. You’ll need to be assessed. Tested. Run through a few trial fights. After that, even if you’re chosen, they’ll need to build up your reputation first. Assuming everything goes well, and you secure a regular place on the roster, you won’t be fighting all the time. It’s a job. Like any other job.”
“Build up my reputation first?” She frowned. “What does that mean?”
He sighed, leaning back in the chair.
“It can mean a lot of different things,” he said. “In your case, I’m going to try and line you up for a protective detail with one of the top families. They usually hire Nirreth for that kind of work, but I know of at least two that would prefer humans. For status purposes.”
When Jet frowned at that, Richter smiled.
“The fact that you’re young and female makes it an easy sell. A very easy sell.”
Jet felt her jaw harden back to stone.
“What makes you think I’d protect a lizard-skin?”
Richter rolled his eyes, laying his thick arms down on the table.
“Have you seen the Green Zones, Jet? Even on the broadcasts?”
Biting her lip, she shook her head.
Richter smirked knowingly.
“Then all I can tell you is… you’re being ridiculous. You will protect them. You’ll do whatever they ask you to do. If you don’t do it willingly, they’ll assign you a Nirreth who’ll sting you frequently to ensure you comply.”
He leaned back, shrugging with his hands.
“That Nirreth will undoubtedly take you as a lover… assuming one of the Royals hasn’t claimed you already. Whichever Nirreth ends up owning you, they will proudly display you on their arm at social gatherings, cheer you on in the Rings, sting and fuck you every night, and feel not a shred of remorse.”
Jet flinched, staring a
t him, but Richter wasn’t done.
“On the contrary,” he added, smirking. “They’ll shower you with presents, for being such a cute, sweet, charming, obedient, and sexy little trinket. One who makes them look good to their Nirreth pals. One who wins them brownie points with fight fans, especially if you win. For the sad truth is, human pets… especially desirable human pets, especially unique human pets… are nothing more than status symbols, love. Like an expensive watch. Only a watch they get to have sex with whenever they want, and who rubs their feet while they watch television.”
His voice grew a touch more steel.
“The sad part? You’ll learn to like it, Jet. You’ll learn to like it a lot. Trust me on this. There’s a reason none of the humans in the Green Zones ever try to run away.”
Jet felt herself pale.
Again, she couldn’t stop the reaction in her body and skin, couldn't even pretend his words hadn’t hit home. Her mind whirled around them, processing them as fast as she could, trying to decide if he could really be telling her the truth.
Along with everyone else, Jet assumed the reason no one came back from the Green Zones was because they were dead. Either they were dead right away, possibly before they even got there, or they were dead within weeks, or months. They were thrown out of a moving culler ship, or eaten, or they ended up in a Nirreth vivisection lab. That, or they got forced to work in the toxic radiation areas right outside the Green Zone capitols.
According to Richter, however, that wasn’t true.
There were living humans there, in the Green Zone.
If Richter wasn’t lying, and she honestly couldn’t think of a reason why he would be, those humans weren’t even trying to run away.
Was it possible?
Could that be the real reason that no one ever came back?
It would be easier to dismiss it all as a lie, if Jet hadn’t just come down off the effects of her first experience with lizard-skin venom.
Averting her gaze, she managed to strip the emotion from her words.
“Why would they want a human as protector?” she said, blunt. “What’s the point? Even beyond the needing to sting me thing, I’m a third of one of the big males.”
“I told you,” Richter said patiently. “It’s a status thing for them. The idea of a trained mammal appeals to them.”
He gave her an apologetic look, as if he somehow didn’t include himself in that designation.
“The idea of a mammal working for them directly,” he added in a matter-of-fact voice. “One docile enough to look over their offspring, especially one that is attractive, and perceived as loyal to one of their high families… that is very appealing to them.”
Richter smiled, his white teeth flashing in the odd lighting of the room.
“They like to think of themselves as benign dictators, Jet. As raising the cultural and intellectual level of the mammals to a higher level.”
Jet just stared at him.
“I told you.” Richter’s voice reverted to patient. “Until you’ve been in a Green Zone, you don’t know what you’re dealing with in them. Trust me when I tell you, you don’t know anything about the Nirreth, Jet. None of the skags do. Not until they’ve been brought inside. When we get there, you’ll see what I mean.”
“Except you,” she said, pointing at him, her hand resting on the table. “None of the skags know anything about the Nirreth except you. Isn’t that what you meant, Richter?”
“I’m not a skag, Jet,” he said.
He met her gaze coolly with those coffee-colored eyes.
When she didn’t back down, or lower her own gaze, he eventually averted his.
Shaking his head, he smiled again faintly.
“Anyway,” he said. “You should be thanking me.”
“Thanking you?” Jet felt her jaw clench. She couldn’t keep the anger out of her voice. “Really? Should I, Richter? Should I be thanking you?”
“Yes,” Richter said, smiling wider. “Laksri already asked if he could have you. He wanted to keep you in his own quarters until you’d been processed. Even before he stung you, he asked, but he asked me again, just now. I believe he first asked me if he could have you right after he saw the vids of you fighting in that raid.”
Jet grimaced, averting her gaze.
Richter's smile widened still more.
“How long do you think it would take me to sell you to one of them, if I went through the usual Green Zone markets?” he teased, winking at her. “You’re a catch, Jet Tetsuo, make no mistake about that. The Nirreth are fascinated by humans. Especially young, pretty females with long hair. Even the young, pretty females who don’t try to hack them up with an authentic-looking Samurai sword.”
Jet didn’t answer.
Truthfully, she felt sick.
Maybe for the same reason, she didn’t trust herself to speak.
With an effort, she fought to clear her head, turning her attention back to the soup. It had already cooled to lukewarm. That, coupled with the roiling feeling in her gut, made her jaw clench, but she was determined to finish it, even now.
She couldn’t afford to turn down food.
She’d already let the bastard distract her long enough to forget about it, no mean feat in and of itself.
Taking another ladle-ful to her mouth, Jet chewed slowly and deliberately, savoring the flavor of the spices cooked into the meat.
Richter watched her eat, eyes thoughtful, despite the smile that played around his lips.
Jet couldn't hold onto the silence, even while eating.
“What about Anaze?” she said. “You said ‘it depends’ when I asked if you’d let him go. What does it depend on? Exactly?”
Richter smiled.
“You really are stubborn,” he said, his smile turning to a smirk. “To remember Anaze at all, given what I just told you. That’s pretty impressive. He must be a friend, indeed.”
“What does it depend on?” she asked.
Richter shrugged, still watching her face.
“I would have thought you could guess that by now,” he said. “Nirreth are happy enough to sting you, but they’d prefer to see you as willing. You’re more highly functional that way, too, particularly when it comes to fighting.”
Richter’s smile grew harder. “Anaze is motivation, I guess you could say. I planned on throwing him in the pot as a bonus present, and as a means of controlling you. I guess I wasn’t too far off, thinking you might put his safety and comfort above your own.”
Jet’s hand gripped her spoon tightly enough to whiten her knuckles.
She looked at Richter, again wanting to doubt his words, but unable to.
“You’re reading me right, girl,” he said, his voice carrying a harder warning. “You misbehave, and they won’t take it out on their favorite sword-wielding sociopath. They’ll take it out on her little mammal boyfriend.”
At her frozen look, his smile returned.
“Over the years, the Nirreth have found that method to be more effective. It tends to put a stop to a lot of the pointless back and forth posturing they get from some of their more recalcitrant pets. At least until you’ve been stung often enough to be compliant on your own. Or until you take on a more, well… personal protector among the Nirreth.”
He winked, smiling at her wickedly.
Jet felt the sickness in her stomach worsen.
Even so, she completed the motion of her hand, taking the soup ladle the rest of the way to her mouth. Swallowing thickly, she moved like an automaton as she filled it again, repeating the motion through sheer force of will.
She no longer tasted the soup, but she would eat every damned drop.
Jet had more questions, but for now, she didn't voice any of them. She honestly wasn’t sure she could take any more of Richter’s answers right then.
Richter might have even sensed that.
He fell silent when she did.
Neither of them broke that silence in the minutes that passed, apart from
the clink of Jet’s spoon at the bottom of the bowl.
6
Do You Swim?
Jet woke up in alarm.
Someone had grabbed her shoulder.
Worse than that, her hands were bound, her wrists chained together tightly and locked to a thick, metallic ring that pulled her arms into rough angles over her head.
Looking down the length of her body, Jet realized her ankles were chained similarly, not giving her a lot of latitude to move, or even change position. Her lower leg had fallen asleep, so she shifted it without thought, grimacing at the pain that rose.
There wasn’t much she could do about the cramp in her shoulder and arms.
Jet tried to close her eyes.
The hand shook her again.
She blinked up at the hand’s owner, seeing the gold streak in his dark hair and the tattoos on his neck and upper chest.
Richter.
Her memory came flooding back.
As usual, he was grinning at her.
Jet’s next thought was: she couldn’t believe she’d let herself fall asleep.
She remembered trying to get loose. She remembered giving up in exhaustion, and after Richter chewed her out for making too much noise. She remembered Richter lying down, and hearing his breathing change, growing more heavy and even over a space of maybe five or ten minutes.
Right after that, he started snoring.
Richter smiled down at her now, almost like he'd been reading her thoughts.
“Sleep well, kitten?” he grinned.
Jet gave him a scathing look.
Chuckling, he unlocked the bolt holding her chained wrists to the bulkhead. Jet’s hands fell to the pillow by her head, and she lowered them in front of her, unable to suppress a sigh of relief. A few seconds later, she carefully stretched out her arms.
She shifted to her back, if only to take the pressure off her shoulder, as Richter walked down to the bottom end of her bunk. He unlocked her ankles from the metal ring between her feet, the same as he had her wrists, only that time he unlocked the actual cuffs as well, removing them from her ankles entirely.
The Complete Alien Apocalypse Series (Parts I-IV Plus Bonus Novella): An Apocalyptic, Romantic, Science Fiction, Alien Invasion Adventure Page 7