by Joe Vasicek
Danica finished suiting up in half the time it took James to put on his pads. She spent the extra time spinning her pujilion staff in quick figure eights, loosening up her muscles. I’ll have to go easy on him, she reminded herself as she savored the whistling noise the staff made as it sliced through the air.
“What good is this thing?” James muttered. “It’s not like we’d ever use it in combat.”
“The pujilion is an elegant tool,” Danica answered. “It’s useful in training your mind and building your reflexes. Anyone can pull a trigger, but not everyone has the fortitude to square off with one of these.”
To make her point, she shouted and lunged, the staff moving so fast that it practically sang. James jumped away and slammed into the wall.
“Ouch!” he cried. “What are you doing?”
“Are you ready?”
She took a step back and assumed a defensive position, left foot forward, ready to strike or deflect—or both.
James held his weapon from the end like a sword and charged straight at her. She easily parried his blow, knocking him away. He regained his balance and swung again, only to have his weapon knocked from his hands. As he bent over to pick it up, Danica struck him across his backside and sent him sprawling to the ground. He cried out in pain and surprise.
“You need to be faster,” said Danica. “Stay on your guard.”
James grabbed his staff and rose to his feet, mimicking Danica’s pose. He stepped forward; she took a step back. He took another step forward; she moved to the side.
Without warning, she lunged and jabbed at him. He barely had time to react, but managed to deflect it; her blow only lightly grazed his stomach.
“Good,” she said. “You’re getting the hang of this. Now come at me again.”
James edged his way around her, then lunged forward in an attack. Danica deflected his blow, stepped aside, and sent him to the floor in one smooth movement.
“Relax,” she said. “Your body is so tense I can see every move before you make it. Let your body react naturally; let all your movements flow together.”
He stood up again and took a deep breath, putting himself in the ready position. Though he tried to relax, Danica could still sense the tension in his body.
She came at him again, slicing the air with her staff. He braced and blocked it, but before he could counter, she went for a jab. The tip of her staff jammed into his stomach, knocking the wind out of him. He fell backwards onto the floor.
“Ahh,” he moaned, holding his stomach.
“Get up. You’re not hurt.”
He stood up again and halfheartedly lifted his staff as she circled him like a crab. Without warning, he lunged forward, but his pujilion glanced harmlessly off of her upper arm.
“Is that the best you can do, Ensign?”
He clenched his teeth and jabbed. She took a quick step back, not even bothering to knock it away. His jab was so weak that the tip of his staff didn’t even touch her.
“You’re not putting your heart into it,” she said. “You’re holding back too much. And when you do manage to loosen up, you have no control, no focus.”
“So?” he said, breathing heavily. “This is my first time—give me a break.”
“This isn’t just a problem with your pujilion technique,” she said, easily deflecting another of his attacks. “It’s a problem with you.”
He glared at her.
“Listen,” she continued. “If you want to rescue your brother and sister, you need to learn control and self-discipline. You need to be able to strike quickly and efficiently. Recklessness will not only get you killed, it will get your friends and companions killed as well.”
And your loved ones, she thought grimly to herself.
“Okay,” said James, brandishing his pujilion with renewed vigor. “What do I need to do then?”
Danica set down her weapon against the wall. James blinked.
“Realize that half the battle is here,” she said, pointing to his head. “‘Know thyself and thy enemy, and thou shalt be victorious in every engagement.’“
“Right,” he said, nodding. “So where do I start?”
“I can’t tell you how to know yourself, Ensign. I can guide you, perhaps take you partway there, but you’re going to have to figure the rest out on your own.”
He frowned. “How am I supposed to do that?”
“Let your enemy teach you,” she said, pointing to his staff. “That’s what these training tools are useful for.”
“But I’m never going to use this,” he said, “and anyways, we’re only a couple of weeks from Kardunash IV as it is. There’s not enough time.”
Danica sighed. “If that’s what you believe, then nothing I can do will help.” She turned and walked toward the wall with the weapons cache.
“Wait!” said James. “Please, teach me. I can learn.”
Danica stopped and turned to face him. She stared at him silently for some time. James returned her gaze, but shifted nervously from foot to foot.
“Let me ask you a question, then,” she said. “Have you ever killed a man?”
James’s eyes widened. “No,” he said. “Of course not.”
“Do you think you ever could?”
“Yes,” he said, a little too quickly. Danica stared him in the eye. “I mean, maybe,” he stuttered. “I don’t know. I think I could.”
“There are two kinds of people in this universe,” Danica said, folding her arms. “Those who can kill without hesitation, and those who cannot. Sheep and wolves, in other words. You know what a sheep is?”
“Yes,” said James. “They had pastures for them in the agri-domes on Kardunash IV, before—well, before the Hameji came.”
“And you know what wolves are too?”
“No,” he admitted.
“The Old Earth Archives tell of a time, long before spaceflight, when humanity lived off of primitive agriculture. According to these records, most of the Earth’s surface was unsettled—roughly analogous to the Outer Reaches today. Wolves were untamed beasts who lived off the land, eating sheep or men or whatever else they could hunt down and kill.
“In civilized society, most people are like sheep. They live in large, comfortable communities where they think they’re safe from those who would harm them. But out on the fringes, you’ll find the wolves. Those are the people who can—and will—kill without hesitation. Those are the ones who fight and win wars. Those are the ones who have the power to destroy civilization.”
James tensed. “Those are the Hameji, you mean?”
“Yes,” said Danica. “Those are the Hameji.”
“So what do I do, then?” he asked. “What does any of this have to do with me?”
“If you want to fight a wolf, you have to become one.”
James’s face paled. “You mean, I have to become like the Hameji? A monster?”
“No,” said Danica. “Because you see, on Old Earth, there were two kinds of wolves: those who lived in the wild, and those who were tamed by man. The tame wolves became sheepdogs—protectors of the sheep. They used their killing instincts to hunt down the wolves.
“You see, Ensign, the only reason civilized society isn’t overrun by barbarians and criminals is because of the sheepdogs. We think of our soldiers and policemen as great heroes, when really, they have more in common with the murderers than with the people they protect. Instead of becoming monsters, however, they learn to channel their natures for good—to serve and protect, rather than to kill and destroy.”
Danica paused. “You may be surprised when you discover how easy it is to kill a man,” she said softly. “When that time comes, though, you need to know yourself—know yourself well enough that it doesn’t turn you into a monster.”
“How can I do that?” James asked.
Danica smiled grimly. “That’s not something I can teach you,” she said. “That’s something you’ll have to discover for yourself.”
* * * * *
Stella’s cheeks flushed red, and she bit her lip. Why are you telling me this? she wanted to scream. Can’t you see that I just need someone to talk to?
Instead, she stared mutely at the ceiling. The purple and pink curtains dangling from the ceiling reminded her of an aurora. She closed her eyes and pictured the one she’d seen from orbit at Auriga Nova V on the first voyage of her apprenticeship. Such a beautiful sight; it had helped her to get over the homesickness from leaving home for the first time.
Now, in the windowless prison of the concubines’ quarters, she felt the terrible homesickness returning. The faces of her family flashed across her mind even as tears burned in her eyes. Her two brothers, Ben and James—Ben with his characteristic grin, James with that serious look in his eyes that Ben always mistook for pouting. She saw her mother and father, too—holding hands and smiling at her, as if to say they loved her. She choked back a sob and clenched her eyes shut, forcing the images out of her mind. That life was worlds away from where she was now, and she didn’t know how to get back.
“Don’t cry, honey,” said Tamu. “Things will get better—you’ll be used to this place before you know it.”
“How could I possibly get used to this?” Stella said, barely aware of her words even as she vocalized the thought.
“Easy, dear,” said Tamu. “Don’t fight it—you’ll just end up hurting yourself.”
Maybe that’s what I want.
“Really though, honey, you don’t have to make things so complicated. All you have to do is sleep with the man, and your problems will be solved.”
Stella clenched her fists to keep from screaming. “Oh, is that all?” she said sarcastically. “Thanks. Thanks a lot.”
“Why not, honey? Are you afraid?”
“No,” Stella said quickly. “It’s not that—”
“Then what is it, dear?”
“It’s just—it’s just wrong, that’s what.”
Tamu’s face fell. “Wrong? What do you mean?”
“Oh, nothing—only that it goes against everything I know and believe. ‘Why are you making things so complicated, Sholpan? Being a whore is so much easier—’”
“Who are you calling a whore?”
Stella cringed as she realized her roommate was glaring at her. “That’s not what I meant.”
“Then what did you mean? Do you think that you’re better than the rest of us?”
“No,” Stella said quickly, “it’s not that at all.”
“Oh, come on, Sholpan,” said Tamu, rolling her eyes. “Ever since you came here, you’ve acted like you’re something else. You won’t come to the lounge, you won’t eat meals with the rest of us—you haven’t even met any of the other girls. Do you know what they’re saying about you behind your back, honey? Do you?”
Stella said nothing.
“They’re saying you’re a self-righteous prude. They’re saying you don’t want to have anything to do with us because you think we’re all sluts and whores. And they’re taking bets right now, honey—bets on how long it takes you to crack.”
Stella’s stomach dropped. Please no, she thought to herself. No drama. Not here.
“Up until now, honey, I’ve taken your side,” Tamu continued. “‘She’s not that bad,’ I told them. ‘Give her some time, she’ll come around.’ But you know what, dearest? The way you wallow in your self-pity, I’m starting to think that they’re right.”
“No!” Stella cried. “Please, Tamu—it’s not like that at all!”
“Then what is it like, dear?”
“It’s just—I just can’t do it,” she stammered. “It’s so—it goes against—” her voice caught in her throat, and for several moments she couldn’t speak.
“Look, honey,” said Tamu, “I know you wanted your first time to be special—hell, everyone does—but even if it’s not the way you wanted it, it’s not the end of the world. I can’t even remember my first time. When it was over, that was it. I was still the same person I was before—nothing had changed.”
Stella buried her head in her hands and drew in a deep breath. “You wouldn’t understand.”
Tamu said nothing for a while. When she spoke, her voice was soft.
“You want to know how I came here, sweetie?”
“Yes,” said Stella, a little surprised by the question. “How?”
“I was on an illegal deep space pleasure yacht when the Hameji took me. I’d worked there since I was fourteen standard years old.”
“What did you do for work?”
Tamu laughed. “I worked the pole, dear. What else would a girl do on one of those ships?”
Stella’s mouth dropped open in shock. “Fourteen?”
“Yes, dear,” said Tamu. “And I wasn’t the youngest one either—not by a long shot. There’s a reason those pleasure cruises only operate in deep space.”
“I’m so sorry,” Stella said, her voice barely more than a whisper.
Tamu sighed. “It was bad, dear. Whatever the men wanted, I had to give them. I lived out of a closet, with two other roommates. We had no doctor, only pills that made us throw up. The owners fed us shit when they fed us at all. They’d tell us we were getting fat, and use that as an excuse to let us starve. After all, if we got fat, what good were we?”
She paused and looked Stella in the eye. “Here, honey, things are different—much different. I only have one man to please, and that only every other week. I have a doctor who keeps me healthy. I eat three meals a day—good meals, filling meals. I live in a comfortable dormitory with all the luxuries I could ask for. So don’t go feeling sorry for yourself, dear. Life is good—even here.”
Tamu smiled and lifted her hand to Stella’s cheek. Even though she clearly meant well, the gesture gave Stella little comfort.
“You can do it, dear,” said Tamu. “Don’t be afraid—you can do it.”
I think I’d rather die.
Tamu stared at her in silence for several seconds. Without a word, she rose to her feet, walked to her dresser, and pulled out an ornate ivory canister.
“Here,” said Tamu, taking something from the canister and holding it out to Stella. “Take this.”
Stella caught the object as it fell from Tamu’s hand. It was a small white pill.
“What is this?”
“Something to loosen your inhibitions, dear,” said Tamu. She knelt down and started rubbing Stella’s back. “The Hameji don’t like their women drugged—that’s why Borta didn’t just slip this into your food. She knew Qasar would suspect something if you gave yourself over to him too quickly.”
Stella stared at the tiny little pill in her hand. It felt as if she were holding a bomb.
“Take this right before you go into his chambers,” Tamu continued, “and you’ll be yourself long enough to fool him. After that, the pill will take care of the rest. Don’t worry—you won’t remember anything after you wake up.”
Stella shuddered, even as Tamu gently massaged her shoulders.
* * * * *
The boy without a name lay awake in his bunk, staring up at the dull gray ceiling. Except for a dim red light from a sign outside the door, the barracks were completely dark. Around him, his platoon brothers slept peacefully. No sudden emotions or flights of passion gripped them; only the calm, dead emptiness of sleep. Yet the boy lay awake, his mind sorting through his disjointed thoughts.
As he stared at the ceiling, images flashed across his mind’s eye—fragments of memories from a life he could no longer remember. He saw the corridor of a ship—a cozy, well-lit corridor that somehow radiated familiarity. Windows flanked him on either side, and through them he had a stunning view of a verdant world below. Rich, green continents speckled with clouds sprawled across the planet’s surface, surrounded by deep blue seas. It was beautiful.
Then he was
in another part of the ship, a small circular room ringed by a vinyl couch along the wall. Two people sat opposite each other—a boy and a girl. The girl looked up and smiled at him, her short brown hair swinging as she turned. The young boy pouted, clearly unhappy to see him.
Something about their strangely familiar faces called out to the boy. Don’t you remember us? they seemed to cry. Come back to us—come back.
“Hello,” said the girl, sliding over to make room for him. The boy without a name nodded before sitting next to her.
“I think we all know why we’re here,” the other boy said.
“Because you don’t think it’s fair that it’s your turn to stay behind,” the boy without a name watched himself say.
“But it’s not. When was the last time we were all together, anyway? I’ve flown dozens of freight runs with Dad since then—and I unloaded every time.”
“All I know is that it’s not my turn. I unloaded the last time.”
“Don’t look at me,” said the girl. “I haven’t been home for over a year. Besides, how many times did I get stuck with dock duty when we were growing up?”
The girl had a wounded look on her face. The memory stirred something deep within the boy—something he didn’t quite understand, but was still there nonetheless. A great yearning in his heart struggled against the empty calmness of his platoon brothers, and he tossed and turned restlessly on his bunk.
“I always get stuck with dock duty. Have you forgotten that I’m still living at home? While you guys are off seeing the universe, I’m stuck here, making all the local runs with Dad. I bet I’ve unloaded this ship more times than all of you.”
“Oh, for all the stars, don’t start this again.”
“Please, James—I’ll love you forever.”
Love. The word brought tears unbidden and unexpected to the boy’s eyes. He blinked as the reddish glow reflecting from the ceiling swam before his view.
“Why are you being so selfish? How many times do you get to see Kardunash IV? Can’t you cut her a little slack this once?”