She rolled her eyes. "Cernaq, I don't want to be analyzed! Just –"
"It's clear that you don't know what you want. Why don't you let me come in?"
She sighed and opened the door. Without waiting for him to enter, she walked back into the cabin and threw herself down on the bed.
Cernaq closed the hatch and stood just inside it, leveling his eyes at her. "You're not treating your friends very well. You know that, don't you?"
"Excuse me," she said. "I guess I'm just a real bitch when it comes to being put in chains."
Cernaq considered his reply carefully. He agreed that she was being a real bitch, but he didn't think it healthy to agree with her. "It's natural to be upset. Just remember that this will be hard on the people who care about you, too."
"They'll get over it. Their lives will go on."
"And yours won't?"
She looked at him, and the expression in her eyes went from anger to desperation.
"Suicide is not the answer, Aer'La."
She shook her head. "You don't understand, Cernaq. You don't know what it's like."
"No, I don't. But you mustn't give up hope."
"There's none to give up," she sighed, getting up from the bed and crossing to him. She rested her hands lightly on his shoulders. "Look, Cern, I appreciate what you're doing. I guess I should have figured that you, of all people, would come here. I just don't think there's any point..."
He brought his hands up, gently moving the hair away from her face and cradling it. "Let us help you," he said.
Her head sank to his shoulder. Her body melted into his, and her arms drew him close and tight. "What does someone like you see in me?" she wondered. She moved her hands up and down his back, and began, softly and teasingly, to kiss the exposed flesh of his neck. Her lips were soft and wet, promising, offering...
Cernaq took Aer'La firmly by the shoulders and pushed her away, holding her at arm's length. "No," he said.
"I was just –" she began.
"You were trying to distract me. Get me into bed, physically exhaust me, and then, once I'm asleep –"
She ripped herself out of his grasp. "You don't understand!" she cried.
"Then help me understand."
"Why? Fournier has already agreed to send me back."
"Fournier will back off if we can turn public opinion against him. If people know what's happened to you and the others –"
"But they won't know!" she insisted. "Don't you get it, Cernaq? The Varthan slavers are experts at confusing people! They're trained liars, the best in the business! Look at all that bullshit in the press – people here think slavery is over with in Varthan Freespace."
"Then let's show them that it isn't."
"How?" she demanded. "How, when they're shown nothing but holos of slavers with their arms around some important admiral or arbiter, saying everything's all right! Why would the media want to show my side of the story, when they can have all those pretty people on camera?"
"You'll be heard. Captain Atal and Professor Mors will back you up."
"No," she sat down hard on the bed, covering her face with he hands. "It won't make any difference. They'll just say that Atal and Mors haven't been there and don't really know. That I've made up a clever story."
"People will know that Mors can't be fooled. Telepaths can serve as third party witnesses in some cases. He can vouch for the truth of what you're saying."
"But I won't be saying anything. First chance they get, they'll feed me grog."
"What?"
"It's a drug. They use it to control us. It messes up your mind so bad, I won't be able to tell the truth, and I doubt Mors would be able to make any sense of what's going in my head."
"Then... then let me be your witness."
"What?"
"Let me inside your mind. Even if you're drugged, I can testify to the truth of what's happened to you."
"They'll say you're lying."
"And Professor Mors will testify that I'm not. And Pallas."
"Pallas wouldn't lift a finger to help me!"
"Pallas will do what I ask. She's my friend, even if she isn't yours." He sat on the bed next to her and put his arms around her, pulling her to him. "Please, Aer'La. Let me help. At least... let me see the truth."
"It's ugly."
"I've seen Carson naked. What could be worse?"
Despite herself, she laughed. "Carson's not hard to look at naked."
"No," Cernaq agreed. "But I'm not about to tell him that."
"All right... I wasn't going to sleep anyway... It won't do a damned bit of good, but you can see whatever it is you want to see in my mind."
"I want to see everything."
"How do we do this?"
He grinned. "First, take your clothes off."
"What?"
"If our minds are going to link, well, that's a much higher degree of intimacy than coitus," he explained.
"Co-what-us?"
"Fucking."
"Oh."
"In order for this to work, we have to create an atmosphere of complete relaxation and utter trust," he went on. As he spoke, he shed his own uniform tunic and touched the insignia-crested clasp on his belt to release it. "Phaetonians would create that atmosphere via meditation. We don't have time for me to teach you to meditate. We'll have to settle for having sex."
"Settle?"
"No offense. Sex with you is almost as good as meditation."
Cernaq stepped out of his pants and stood naked before her.
"Is something wrong?" he asked, indicating the fact that she was still clothed.
"No. I just... I wanted to look at you for a minute, that's all."
"Is it all right if I read your mind now?"
She nodded.
"You're thinking that this might be the last time you see me this way," he said.
"I don't see how it won't be." She began to slowly remove her own clothes.
"And you're thinking of Druberj."
"I always do, when I see you. Especially naked. Does that bother you?"
"No. He was the first person who was ever kind to you. I'm flattered by the comparison. But you're going to see me this way again, Aer'La. Often. I promise."
"I wish I could be sure."
"I'll make you sure. Now lie down."
Suddenly, she looked afraid. "You first. I need to be on top."
"Because you fear being under someone else's control. But you have to surrender that fear, if this is going to work. I need to guide you in this. It will be hard enough that you're not Phaetonian."
She sat on the bed, crossing her arms over her breasts. It may have been, he thought, the first time she'd ever covered her nakedness in front of anyone. "I..."
He sat next to her. "Aer'La, you taught me everything I know about sex. I was afraid, too."
"No you weren't!"
"I was. I was doing something none of my people had done for hundreds of years. I didn't even know if I was capable. I'd learned to suppress my erections before they happened. I didn't know if they could be... brought to their usual conclusion. I'd never masturbated. I was afraid nothing would do what it was supposed to, and I'd be confirming all those rumors about Phaetonians. I was afraid I'd disappoint you."
She cupped his face in one hand and kissed him. "You've never disappointed me."
"Then please trust me."
"What do I do?"
"Open yourself to me."
"That's easy."
He laughed. "On every level – not just with your legs."
"Oh."
"You can start with... the obvious, but work out from there." He took her shoulders and eased her back on the bed, saying soothingly, "Relax... and open up. Open your ears... your eyes... let everything move in freely, just like the air into your lungs..."
He moved on top of her, sensing that his weight was almost nothing to her, like a warm, comforting blanket settling over her. Meeting her eyes for consent, he arched his hips and entered her
easily. With Aer'La, for him, there was never resistance. She was always ready. He began to thrust gently. She sighed against his neck.
"What if it doesn't work?" she whispered. "What if my mind won't let you in?"
"Then we'll have to keep doing this until it does," he whispered back. Then he lowered his lips to hers, gently parting them with his tongue. Neither of them spoke any more.
It took several climaxes for each of them before any level of relaxation could be achieved. Cernaq continued patiently, calling out to her with his mind, letting the feeling of his penis entering her become a metaphor for them both. He was entering her. He was inside her. He touched her deepest, most hidden places.
When it happened, they almost didn't notice. Suddenly she was thinking his thoughts, and he was thinking hers, and neither of them could have said it hadn't always been that way. He saw his face above her with her eyes. He felt his own breath, warm in her ears, his tongue and lips on her neck, as if it were his ears and neck being thus caressed. He felt his own erection throbbing within her, as if he were the one being entered.
As though I were fucking myself, he thought. Carson would be amused. He heard Aer'La laugh in his mind, for the sounds emitting from her body were not the sounds of laughter.
They were together. Their minds touched.
Now, Cernaq said to her, let me see what happened...
And she did. Her birth into slavery and her training, her first love with Druberj, his murder... all the things she'd told Atal when they'd met... and more...
Aer'La:
After Druberj died, and I killed Jin, I slept for a long time. Days, I guess. They fed me grog. I didn't care. I wanted the pain to go away. Each time I awoke, and realized that Druberj's mutilated corpse wasn't just something I'd seen in a nightmare, I promised myself that I'd find some way to end it. To kill myself. Then they'd pour grog down my throat, and I'd sleep again.
When I finally woke up, I was in the back of a truck, which was moving. I heard the rumble of an engine, and felt the jolts as the wheels hit bumps in the road. The ground vehicles in Varthan Freespace aren't like the ones you'd ride in the Inner Worlds. They still have wheels, and usually burn some kind of fuel to move.
I was naked and alone in the compartment. There was a manacle clamped around one of my ankles, and the manacle was chained to the wall of the truck. I figured I hadn't had any grog for about half a day. I could think straight, but my head hurt like hell. I guessed they were ready to put me on the auction block. They didn't grog you before a sale. They wanted you alert.
If I was about to be sold, then I must be on some other planet. I figured it was probably Den. That was the most likely place to sell slaves. Den was the seediest port in Varthan Freespace, and the most popular for all kinds of traders. It's near the Confederate border, so people of all races and all alliances pass through. I'd heard the masters say that you'd see anyone in the universe you might be looking for there, if you just waited long enough.
The truck stopped moving. I heard the canopy pop open, and at least two people get out of the front, heard the crunch of footsteps and the harsh buzz of voices as they came around to the back, where I was. The lock bleeped as someone keyed its open sequence. The cargo hatch would open next. I shut my eyes tight, pretending to be asleep.
"'S'it safe to leave her?" asked a male voice I didn't know.
"The grog'll be good for another two, three hours," said an answering voice – Master Harl's voice. "Let's go see the agent."
"I'm tellin' you, the sumbitch'll want fifteen."
"I pay ten. That's standard," said Harl. "Close the hatch."
"Gon' ask fifteen, I say," said the other, as he reached back and took a swipe at the hatch. It fell back into place, but I could tell its latch hadn't caught. He hadn't pushed hard enough for the magnets to pull it shut and the electronic lock to click.
Their argument continued and their voices faded as they walked away. I had no idea, then, what they were talking about. I only knew numbers because Dru had taught me to count to twenty or so. I realized later they were talking about a commission on my sale, and Harl didn't want to pay what the agent was asking. Their greed saved my life, I guess, that and Harl's friend being lazy with the hatch.
When it was quiet, I inched over to the hatch and urged it open, just enough to see out. The truck was parked between two buildings. I didn't hear any voices or footsteps, so I figured no one was around. There was a door a good way off, in the direction their voices had gone. That must have been where they went, I thought. I probably had five minutes, if no one else showed up. Harl thought I would still be asleep for a while, so he wasn't worried. He didn't know the grog had never knocked me out like it did the other girls. That was good.
I twisted to check out the manacle. It was an old one, as old as the truck. Harl and his bosses didn't spend money on things like hardware. The lock that held the thing clasped around my ankle was a simple one. It was enough to hold most of the girls, grogged out of their minds as they usually were, and too stupid to think about how the lock might open. I knew a little bit about locks, though. I knew that a lot of them opened to the same key, and that often the keys weren't really complex. Dru and I had practiced our lock-picking skills on the doors and cabinets in Master Hix's bed chambers. The lock that stood between me and freedom on the streets of Den was nothing compared to the lock on the hutch where Hix kept his finest wines. We'd opened that one. I could open this, and I did.
I slipped out of the hatch opening, holding it almost shut as I went, and then pushing it closed behind me. I thought for a minute that I should leave it ajar, so I could slip back in if Harl showed up early. I'd already broken the manacle's lock, though. There was no way to avoid punishment. I might as well go for broke. I ducked immediately under the wheels of the truck and lay on my naked belly on the gravel, checking out my surroundings.
At the front of the two buildings between which the truck was parked was a street. Like the alley, it was covered only with dirty gravel. Den was a backwater world. It looked like it was evening. The sky was a dark gray, with some red streaks shot through it. I later learned that it's never broad daylight on Den. It's either dark or darker. So it may have been high noon when I crawled out. I couldn't tell by the number of people, either, 'cause they say it's always busy on Den.
I didn't stop to think about where I was going to go. I didn't have time to do that. It occurred to me that everyone I saw walk by was wearing clothes, that I might stand out for being naked. I didn't know what to do about it, though. There were no clothes to be had. I wriggled out from under the front of the truck, and I ran.
I can't say I wasn't noticed, a naked girl among a bunch of fully clothed tourists. Some of them yelped as I dashed down the street, hopping and wincing as the gravel cut into my bare feet. They must have known, at least most of them must have, that I was an escaped feral slave. One or two reached out for me, but I was too quick for them, knowing I couldn't let myself be grabbed or slowed in any way.
As I ducked around people, zigging and zagging, I looked for a likely place to hide for a few minutes. I needed to rest, and I needed to deal with very important business.
Another alley between storefronts offered me some shelter. Den's biggest city is built on an old and pretty common plan – streets in a grid like cage bars, with buildings arranged in squares between them. The alley I ducked into had something else old and common – trash bins. Not the expensive kind of outdoor bins, with their own incinerators or vaporizing units, but plain, filthy trash bins. This was a poor section of a poor town on a poor planet. The money changed hands here, but it didn't stay here.
I hid behind one of the bins and kicked another over, letting everything inside spill out. I sifted through the trash quietly, searching for what I needed. I tried not to think about the sticky gunk that I got all over me as I did so. There were too many awful things it could have been. I'd worry about being clean later, if I lived.
Anything sharp wou
ld have worked. I found a glass bottle. Good enough. I smashed it against the side of the building and broke off a good, sharp chunk. Taking a deep breath and gritting my teeth, I pinched off an inch of flesh, whose location I'd memorized, on my right hip. With the other hand, I took the shard of glass and gouged into my own skin.
When the pain hit me, I shuddered and had to force myself not to cry out. My blood began to ooze purple down my leg and onto the ground. I didn't worry about it. Dru had shown me where and how to cut so it wouldn't bleed too much. So I wouldn't die from the cut. He'd shown me how to feel where they put the thing, and drawn me a picture of what it looked like. Dru had shown me so much...
I refused to let myself think about him. There'd be time, later. If I stopped now, I'd come apart, I'd get caught, and it would all be over. If I wanted to live – did I want to live? Dru would have wanted me to, I was sure. So, for him, yes, I'd live. For a while, anyway. Maybe, for him, I could get to Freedom. At least one of us would have made it.
The thing I was looking for – the thing I was cutting into my leg to get at – was an I.D. chip. I hadn't even known I had one until Dru had told me. He'd shown me the tracking system at Master Hix's house that picked up their signal. As long as you had one in you, they could use a tracker to find you, wherever you were. Any slave who wanted to escape would have to cut it out of her.
As pain goes, I guess I'd been through worse. That doesn't mean it didn't hurt, of course; but I got the damned thing out of me. It was a little, plastic square, about the size of a fingernail. I'd never have been able to find it, but it was pretty hard, and close to the surface.
I wanted to wait, to rest and get over the pain of what I'd had to do. I knew I couldn't. If Harl had a tracker – and I'm sure he did – the chip would lead him right to me. I tossed it as far as I could down the alley, and then took off running again.
Finding clothes was my next problem. On top of being a naked Inihu, I now had blood smeared all over my leg. I couldn't run as fast, because my leg hurt. Sooner or later, someone was going to catch me. Would they take me back to the auction block, hoping to get money for returning me? I couldn't take the chance of finding out. I needed clothes to disguise myself, something that would cover as much of me as possible.
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