Indentured Bride

by Yamila Abraham

  The air was humid enough to make moisture bead on her skin. It was not hot however, but a comfortable temperature. Tabitha felt clammy within minutes.

  They exited the tube to a dirt path that led through crops. One acre looked to be green wheat of some sort. Tubers were growing across from this. A water jet started in a plot ahead of them, dousing berry bushes.

  Tabitha felt in a daze, absorbing almost none of it. The square house loomed before them. In it she presumed she’d meet her master. Then she could fathom the true scope of her situation.

  Diplomo strode ahead of her to a door that looked like it was covered with some kind of wax paper. He pressed the call button. They waited together several minutes, then he pressed again. When there was still no answer he turned to her with his glowing eye-slot.

  “The hex-lord appears to be out. We will enter and wait for him. He was informed that we would be coming.”

  “Shouldn’t we wait?”

  “Seeing to your needs takes precedence over concerns of etiquette. You’ve had a three day star flight. You need to recover.”

  She pursed her lips.

  The door opened without any resistance. Tabitha tried to take that as a good sign. If he didn’t want them going in he would have locked it, right?

  They entered into a kitchen, the floor of which looked to be tiled with the same wax paper that was on the door. Tabitha realized the thin layer was the only thing separating them from the dirt. There was a fat round stove with a single burner and long chimney pipe. Beside it was a deep free-standing sink. A square table made from some translucent yellow rock (possibly amber?) and edged with metal filled the majority of the room. It was covered in machinery parts: a grimy gear as big as her hand, and large bolts, shafts, and pins. A light fixture hung over the table, but was off. Plenty of natural light was streaming in from the numerous windows.

  They moved into the next room—a sitting room of sorts. The angular couch looked like it was made for someone much larger than her. Yellow stuffing was jutting out from one corner. The small table before it held some kind of large tool and a dirty cup. A computer terminal with an attached metal seat was in one corner. There was also a desk covered in papers and boxed parts, and another armchair which was again very large to Tabitha.

  Two rooms came off of the living room. A dingy bathroom with a metal tub ringed in filth and a bedroom almost completely filled by a lumpy bed. There was a piece of chest armor on the unmade bed that could have fit two of her inside of it.

  “Ms. Riley.”

  She emerged from the bedroom.

  “Please take this opportunity to bathe and change into fresh clothes.”

  She eyed the bathroom. What if he comes back while I’m naked? She was filthy, however. The brief cold shower she’d been allowed to take at the hospital hadn’t been enough to clean off her slave-compound grit.

  She went into the shower beside the tub and washed speedily.

  When she emerged (feeling refreshed) she found Diplomo seated stiffly on the large couch.

  “I would prefer you wait until your master returns to eat.”

  She sat down beside him. “Okay.” Her stomach was too wound up with nerves for her to be hungry anyway. She let her self sink into the cushions and within minutes fell fast asleep.

  *

  * *

  * * *

  * * *

  * *

  *

  Her master was a burly lumberjack in her dream, complete with a Quebec accent. He saw her and gleamed with a lascivious smile. Then he became cartoon like, calling her his lovely pigeon and smothering her with kisses. She responded like a cartoon damsel in return, shoving him away weakly, while being stirred by his embrace. Soon she was beneath him, flushed, and illogically enamored. His hot mouth sealed over hers. His hands stroked her small breasts. Tabitha let herself become swept away.

  The sound of the door woke her before she could try to process what she had dreamed. She scrambled to her feet instinctively. Diplomo followed. Then he appeared, the man who would be her master.

  He said something with a strong deep voice. The words were alien gibberish. Diplomo answered him in the same tongue.

  Tabitha absorbed her master’s features as they spoke. He had the same reddish-purple alien coloration she’d seen from her foremen at the compound. Most of his flesh was bare. He had a breastplate over his bare chest, black pants, and a close-fitting cap with a black cloth draping down behind it. His thick shoulders and neck muscles were uncovered. He was like a barbarian, or a body-builder. Tabitha estimated him at well over six feet tall.

  The alien removed his breastplate. Tabitha saw pectorals that were probably bigger than her breasts. Diplomo began to answer again, but was cut off. The alien raised a hand to silence him while approaching her. The hair on the back of Tabitha’s neck pricked up.

  He brought his dark-skinned hand to her face, cupping her cheek with his palm. He said something to Diplomo while locking their eyes.

  “He asked if you want to be here.”

  She broke from his severe gaze. “Yes. I do.”

  Diplomo translated. The alien glided the hand down her sensitive throat while speaking again. Tabitha realized she was trembling.

  “He asked if you understand your purpose here.”

  She winced and lowered her head to nod. The alien’s hand moved away from her.

  “He asked if you’re scared.”

  “Yes. I’m scared.”

  She saw her master’s shoulders rise and fall with a deep breath.

  “Why doesn’t he speak English?” The question was foolish even to her ears. There was no reason for him to know her language, but for some reason all the Hax-Rah she’d been exposed to so far spoke English. She presumed he would too.

  “He did not accept the language chip provided to him,” Diplomo said.

  This stirred a vague memory from when she was first enslaved.

  The alien said something.

  “He wishes to know if you were tortured.”

  She swallowed. “I was. At the slave compound.”

  The alien sighed a second time. Then he said something quick and derisive and went into the bedroom. He shut the door.

  Tabitha blinked a few times. She actually thought things went well. The touching was fine, wasn’t it? Not too intrusive, and exactly what she’d expect from a master in this situation. The whisper of his hand was still tingling on her throat.

  “What’s going on?” she said to Diplomo.

  “He stated that he never wanted a war concubine and had canceled you.”

  Tabitha felt a trickle of ice down her spine, then numbness. She wasn’t sure how to feel about this.

  “Why?” she said.

  “He said it’s too dangerous here. However, he also said you were beautiful, and appeared stricken by that. I believe he may change his mind.”

  Tabitha looked around her with new eyes. She’d felt perfectly safe.

  “What now?”

  “I am unsure. It’s possible you’ll be removed.”

  “Removed?”

  “If he does not wish to claim you then he could request a shuttle to take you out of here. You’d be returned to the slave compound.”

  “What?” Her eyes became wide with dread. “I don’t want to go back there. Why can’t I stay? How am I not safe here? We’re in a giant force-field or something—aren’t we?”

  “As I said, I am unsure.”

  Tears began well up in her chest. “But he seemed to like me.” Her hands were clutched to her breast and she began to tremble.

  Here there was hope. There was none where she’d come from. Maybe he’d prove to be a beast who she’d want to escape from. For now all she knew was that she wanted to stay. For God’s sake, how dangerous could it be inside the dome?

  She’d make him want to keep her.

  She gathered the dirty cup from the smaller table, then went to the desk and took a dirty plate from beneath some of the papers.
>
  “Ms. Riley?”

  “They said I was his maid and his cook too,” she said, thinking back to her hasty briefing before she departed Earth. “I’m getting to work.”

  “Very good,” Diplomo said. He followed her.

  There were more dirty dishes piled in the belly of the deep sink. She hunted for soap. A capped jug on the floor had some goo in it that sudded up with water. She set to work, scrubbing each hard crusted dish and utensil until it shined. She was getting to the bottom of the pile when she heard the bedroom door open. Tabitha forced her hands to keep scrubbing.

  Her master entered the kitchen. His cap was off and she realized he had long tendrils of black hair. She had to admit—he was an attractive man. He stood staring at her several moments. She peeked at him.

  He said something in the alien tongue.

  “He asked what you are doing.”

  Tabitha hazarded a long glance at him. “My job.”

  Diplomo translated. The alien said something else.

  “He says you don’t have to.”

  She kept scrubbing. “I’m going to do whatever it takes for him to let me stay.”

  “Even if your limbs are torn from their sockets?” Diplomo translated after a moment of hesitation.

  Tabitha gaped at him.

  The alien continued and Diplomo translated. “There should be ten hex-lord’s here killing the jii’tox. There were only two. As of last month that became only one—me. Instead of sending help they send me you, a pretty girl. If one of those things gets full grown they’ll claw through the shield like paper. The fail-safes will seal it inside with us. It will hunt the weakest target.”

  Tabitha’s mouth went dry. She forced up enough spittle to talk. “Couldn’t I hide…or…?” Fear had manifested the words. She wasn’t even sure what she was saying.

  He reached out and caressed her shoulder. Once again, his touch was pleasant and gentler than she would have anticipated. She had an urge to bridge the space between them. A hug would have been sublime.

  “He says the safest thing is for you to leave,” Diplomo said.

  He looked as though he regretted the words, but still turned from her and stepped away. Tabitha felt their thread of chemistry snap as he retreated to the living room. She turned back toward the sink and let herself cry—softly, so he wouldn’t hear from the other room.

  “Jii’tox are transient monsters who lay their eggs on lifeless worlds or moons. When they mature they are able to breach space and travel to inhabited worlds to feed. Hex-lord Jaxil must be here to kill them before they mature enough to attack the nearby Hax-Rah home world.”

  “Oh,” Tabitha said while snuffling. “I see.”

  “My database says they are incredibly difficult to dispatch, with only one vulnerable area. Most hunters are killed or maimed. It’s understandable why no other Hax-Rah would want to do the work.”

  “I used to be able to shoot a can off a fence from three hundred yards.” Her mind drifted back to those carefree days a moment, when her mother was still alive.

  “Perhaps you should tell him that.”

  She shook her head and continued with the dishes. When they were all drying on the absorbent cloth she laid out on the only area of clear counter space she stood in the middle of the kitchen, not knowing what to do with herself.

  “I surmise he would appreciate it if you cleaned his bathroom. It seems especially filthy.”

  She managed a weak nod. As she stepped past Diplomo her stomach growled.

  “Let’s arrange for you to eat first.”

  “I’m fine.”

  Jaxil was sitting at his terminal. His body was so large it completely blocked the monitor. She went into the bathroom, unsure if he even noticed.

  She found stuff that had to be cleaning supplies under the sink and set to work scraping the scum from the bathtub. It had a putrid smell which she ignored. There were fouler things in the latrine of the slave compound that she had long since grown immune to. It took an hour and three cleaning rags to get the bathroom sparkling. She leaned on the sink to admire her handiwork. She was thirsty, weary, and emotionally drained. But she still brimmed with pride.

  Jaxil blocked the doorway with his large frame. “Deearka.”

  She blinked at him.

  “Deearka means beautiful,” Diplomo said.

  The alien said something more. Diplomo translated from behind him.

  “He wants you to come to the kitchen and take food.”

  “Oh.”

  Jaxil moved aside for her.

  “Thank you.”

  She sat at the kitchen table where he gestured. His project had been pushed aside, granting her a clear spot. A plate was set before her (one of the ones she’d just cleaned). He opened a chest cooler and pulled out something wrapped in wax paper while saying something.

  “You don’t have to be his slave. You’ll be leaving tomorrow.”

  Tabitha felt as though her insides crumbled.

  A loaf of green bread was placed in front of her. Jaxil went back into the chest for something else.

  “He says he won’t bond physically with you so you won’t have trouble growing accustomed to a new master.”

  Tabitha’s lips parted. She presumed that meant he wasn’t going to have sex with her. He’s honorable.

  Jaxil presented her with what looked like a hunk of cooked meat and then poured her a glass of sour tea from a pitcher.

  “He said you don’t have to be scared,” Diplomo translated.

  “I’m not scared anymore.”

  She heard him grunt in approval after Diplomo relayed this. This made her turn back to look at him. She saw his thick shoulders rise and drop with a sigh. He headed back to the living room, but glided his hand over her shoulder as he passed. The touch, thought fleeting and light, caused tingles in her flesh.

  “Deka,” he said, and then exited.

  “He says to eat.”

  Tabitha drew a deep breath and obeyed.

  She cried on his couch that night. It was dark outside the windows and Jaxil had closed the door of his bedroom to sleep. She didn’t know why sleeping alone on his ample couch made her cry. Would she be happier if he dragged her into bed with him?

  Yes. If it meant he would keep her.

  Damn. What a pathetic thing ten years at the horrible slave compound had turned her into. She was so desperate not to go back she was willing to do almost anything. It helped, of course, that he seemed kind. When was the last time someone had shown her kindness?

  She felt knotted with conflicting emotion. None of it she could trust. It had been a long day, a long space flight, and a confusing arrival.

  He’ll change his mind in the morning.

  *

  * *

  * * *

  * * *

  * *

  *

  And yet, when she woke in the early dawn, it was because he was stomping through the living room with his chest armor and cap. The slam of the front door followed moments after. Tabitha sat up, listening to the silence.

  Her master had left her.

  Of course he left you. He has monsters to kill.

  She tried to reason herself out of a new bout of sadness.

  Rather than sulking she got up and looked for some work. If this master was going to dump her then he should at least give her a good reference to get another master. Yeah, right. Well…she’d make him miss her at least.

  She started in the far corner of the kitchen and cleaned her way from one side of the house to the other. Diplomo insisted she stop for breakfast. The meat from the chest gave her indigestion so she ventured out for some berries. A lick from one didn’t kill her, and they were sweet. She ate a small bush’s worth then filled a large bowl and set the in the middle of the table.

  It was like a fancy decoration now. Nice.

  Next she put away the dishes in the only empty cupboard. Then she found floor cleanser and a broom/mop thing clogged with cobwebs. She cleaned it first
, then the floor.

  As she continued along, cleaning and organizing, she found hidden treasures in storage chests and cubbies. She wasn’t in his bedroom (where she was too timid to intrude) so she explored as she wished. There was a large container of seeds, sorted and labeled in the alien script. A big metal box housed an elaborate first aid kit. There were syringes pre-loaded with amber or clear fluids, labeled in the alien language. A forbidding staple gun, sealed in a sterile casing, was in a molded section of the box. Then she found white balls made of pressed wax with a few handfuls of wax missing. There was a kit in a shiny box that had to be for trimming hair and nails. Another kit held tools to mend fabric.

  By evening she was starving and wanted to try to cook. The oven was easy to figure out, but then, she had no idea what to make. Diplomo suggested a soup and helped her select ingredients from the nearest garden. The crops surrounding them seemed to be fields of staples, with gardens of more unique vegetables closer to the house. She’d found spices during her cleaning spree, but only recognized salt. Diplomo had her put some of a red spice in the soup also. This caused a delicious aroma to cascade from the brew.

  Tabitha’s mouth watered as she stirred. She hoped Jaxil would arrive in time to be welcomed by the scent. She was feeling like a happy little bride.

  Well, it was a nice daydream, anyway.

  The ground shook and she heard a distant engine kick off. She brimmed with a fragile joy. It could have been her master or a shuttle to take her away. She presumed the former and served a bowl of the soup with a loaf of green bread.

  Jaxil entered, walking hunched over and grunting. He braced himself on the table as he passed, not even looking at her delectable soup. Tabitha’s heart sank—then she realized the trail of blood coating the floor.

  Her master lumbered into the central room and dropped onto the couch.

  Tabitha grabbed the medical kit she found. Jaxil was panting while holding his cracked chest plate against his right side. She perched on the couch next to him. Jaxil glowered toward her with his white teeth flared. Normally she would have fled from such a threat, but she knew it was only a grimace of pain. She forced her trembling hands reach for his chest plate.