In Extremis

by M. C. A. Hogarth

  “Good morning to you too.” Sediryl forced her tremors to cease. She started wrapping her hair into an elaborate chignon. “Did your night go well?”

  “I had an interesting one,” Maia replied. “There was a big data dump. Suspicious thing, I’m investigating it. I don’t like big pushes across a system this small.”

  “Something that puts you at risk?” Sediryl asked. “I was hoping I could get Kamaney to release us the Visionary so you would have someplace safer to stay…”

  “And we’d have some way to run? Good idea. I wish it had worked.”

  Sediryl sighed. “Me too.”

  “We’ll keep chipping away at what we can. Speaking of which, last night’s busy network gave me the chance to chat with the Chatcaavan Queen.”

  “Oh?” Sediryl asked, her arms freezing.

  “She hasn’t been here long, but she says the pirate is former Alliance military. I’ll see if I can find out what that’s about. She was betrayed, and she’s out here to build a nation. And she wants a confidant, and discarded the Queen for not being emotionally invested enough. Kamaney appears to like controlling people, and you can’t control a dispassionate type.”

  “Wonderful,” Sediryl breathed, her arms quivering. She resumed winding her hair into place. “I suppose I’ve chosen the right tack, then.”

  “At least it’s one that hasn’t failed yet.”

  “You fill me with confidence,” Sediryl said.

  “Better that than complacency,” Maia replied. “Anyway, my next task is to investigate possible avenues out of here for the data, and for you flesh-and-blood types. There might be more ways to escape than via the Visionary.”

  Sediryl studied herself in the mirror, pinched her cheeks to tint them. “I’ll pray for your success on both counts. We need to get the information we collect out as quickly as possible, but I would prefer that we follow it.”

  “You and me both.”

  “Did she release genie access to me yet? And do you remember any of my stored patterns?”

  “I do, yes. You want the alternate you were considering?”

  “Yes,” Sediryl said. “The sanguine suede. And see if you can’t get the genie to give me hairsticks to match.”

  “Are you sure this isn’t coming on too strong?” Maia asked again.

  “The Chatcaavan Queen already tried coming on too meek,” Sediryl said. “We’ll have to hope this works better for us than that did for her.”

  Breakfast was a palatial spread. Sediryl’s chair was decorated with a different white fur: a Harat-Shar this time, the remains of a snow pard. She cooed over it and cuddled into the chair and hated herself for it, and for the fact that she applied herself to the meal with all the gusto the pirate could have wanted from her enthusiastic responses. Sediryl allowed herself to be plied with this dish or that until at last she pushed a plate away. “Oh, but I mustn’t. I can’t eat too much or my clothing will punish me.” She patted her corset busk. “Beauty is such a tyranny.”

  “It’s worth it,” Kamaney said. “You look magnificent in red.” She sighed. “It’s so nice to see someone enjoying my meals. The Chatcaavan barely ate at all.”

  “That hardly surprises me,” Sediryl answered. “Their females are cowed, abused, and molded from birth. They aren’t capable of the acts we are, who are reared to power.”

  “We were, weren’t we?”

  “Oh, certainly.” Sediryl smiled at her, eyes half-lidded. “I can sense it in you.” Dropping her gaze to her meal, she said, “It’s a pity about the Chatcaavan Queen, though.”

  “Oh yes,” the pirate said with a sigh. “I wanted so much to get her to open up. Express herself more. Maybe become more…”

  “Giving?” Sediryl suggested.

  “More able to receive.”

  Sediryl propped her cheek in an artfully splayed hand and looked up at the ceiling. “Maybe she found you intimidating? You are, you know.”

  “I wondered about that.” Kamaney looked disappointed. “But I can’t not be me. You know how it is.”

  “I do. Would you like me to try coaxing her from her shell? She might make a worthy companion to you yet, with help.”

  “It is tempting. But… you’re also intimidating, don’t you think?”

  Sediryl laughed softly. “To a Chatcaavan? Not at all. Why, our crown princess was sold into slavery by the traitor we had beheaded, did you know? To the dragons we are the frailest and most breakable of alien pets.” She sighed. “I fear even the Chatcaavan females think of us thus, but we might turn that to our advantage here.”

  “Your crown princess?” Kamaney said, wide-eyed.

  “He had so much to answer for,” Sediryl replied, pretending to muse on it. “I think I might have had him killed too quickly.”

  Kamaney laughed. “I think you’re right.” With a grin she leaned back, steepling her fingers. “So, milady… I have a little time before my next engagement. How can I entertain you?”

  Petting the snow pard’s pelt, Sediryl effected a moue. “I don’t suppose I might tour the warehouse? I find myself without a lady’s maid, and I miss my servants.”

  “More presents!” The pirate chortled. “You are an expensive friend.”

  “I’m worth it,” Sediryl promised, lowering her voice.

  “You’re already more entertaining than my last few guests.” Kamaney rose. “By all means. To the warehouse.”

  On the trip out of Kamaney’s private bloc, Sediryl did her best to observe the sorts of details Maia might find useful but challenging to glean while trapped in virtual space. The pirates’ numbers were surely in a database somewhere, but their attitudes toward their leader? She watched them in vain, because they all conducted themselves professionally. If they disliked Kamaney, they didn’t show it. Would that she had her cousins’ mind talents! All her walk divulged was that security was strict, the pirates obedient, and the base large enough to maze her.

  Any hope that she could free all the slaves in this operation vanished when the door opened on the cargo bay. She halted despite herself, staring at the endless rows of cages, and the silence in her head seemed formed of the space between heartbeats, because her heart had paused for so long she thought it would not start again.

  “Not too shabby, is it?” Kamaney said. “We’re three times as large as the next largest slaver.”

  “There are others?” Sediryl breathed.

  “I know, I’ve let them operate on their own for too long, haven’t I? Most of them are paying me protection money, though, and that works out better. They’re on the other side of the Alliance, or in some far better policed locale and I don’t care to set up in those areas. It’s best to leave them to themselves and prune them back once in a while. So they don’t get ideas.”

  Sediryl forced herself to turn an admiring look on the Karaka’an. “I am impressed at your business acumen.”

  “You don’t start an empire without money,” Kamaney said, and gestured expansively. “Shall we? We can browse, or if there’s something in particular you’re looking for?”

  Sediryl settled her pard fur more attractively over her breast. “Perhaps the stroll. If you have time.”

  “I could spare it to show this off.” The pirate grinned. “I don’t get a lot of visitors who haven’t seen it yet.”

  Because the slaves themselves didn’t count, of course. Sediryl swallowed her gorge and said, “By all means. I’d love a tour.”

  The tour took them past the outside edge of the cellblock, where the doctors, groomers, engineers, and data technicians worked. Kamaney introduced them all; try as she might Sediryl couldn’t grasp how they had come to be here. Had it been forced? A choice? She’d assumed there would be something in their eyes that revealed their sociopathy, but to her horror most of them seemed completely normal. Several of them were even charming, enthusiastic about their duties. She flattered them, smiled, laughed at the right intervals, and reminded herself that Maia had made her quarters safe and she cou
ld break down there later. For now, the stage… the stage, or death, or worse.

  The worst of the tour took her through the cells, row after row of suffering people, their bodies buffed and glossed and groomed to perfection and their eyes empty pits. In keeping with her persona, Sediryl stopped here and there to “shop,” trying to select individuals for perusal who were either asleep or so far gone they couldn’t be hurt by the objectification of a slaver.

  “You should pick a few more conscious ones,” Kamaney said at last, jokingly.

  “I like watching them sleep,” Sediryl said. “They’re still. It lets me see the patterns of their fur better.”

  “Oh!” Kamaney made a ‘huh’ noise. “I never thought of that. The agitated ones do shake or twitch, don’t they.”

  “I’m surprised you don’t sedate them.”

  “Drugging them is expensive and can impair their health.” Kamaney waved a hand. “It’s a bad investment. I make drugs to sell, not use.”

  “Do you?” Sediryl asked, curious.

  “Of course,” Kamaney said. “Weapons-running is out of the question. I need the weapons myself. Drugs and flesh are how I make cash.” She grinned. “Oldest trades in the business. There’s always demand.”

  “And yet, you have so many here…”

  “It only seems like a lot. Keep in mind the scale of settled space. Four hundred billion in friendly space alone... once you count the dragons and the unclaimed territories?” Kamaney shrugged, resuming her stroll. “All of these will sell the moment I make them available. I hold back to make sure demand’s high. No one else keeps them in as good condition as I do.”

  “They do look healthy,” Sediryl said. For people dying slowly of despair. “What do you mean, odd ones?”

  “Oh, it’s like any business,” Kamaney said casually. “Some products are more popular than others. For instance.” She pointed down one of the corridors. “Humans are that way. We have a lot of humans because they’re a high volume product. Everyone wants humans. Particularly other humans.”

  Startled, Sediryl said, “They enjoy enslaving one another?”

  “And have for all their history.” Kamaney sneered. “Why do you think we had to escape them?” She slowed as they turned a corner. “Eldritch of course—pardon me for saying so. Another hot product.”

  “I’d be insulted otherwise, given our rarity.”

  “And beauty?” Kamaney grinned up at her. “Anyway, there are exotics that move slowly, but go for higher prices. Like these Faulfenza.” She stopped in front of a series of cages. “There aren’t many buyers for true aliens, but the ones who like them really like them.”

  Sediryl met Daize’s eyes in one of the furthest cells. “Oh,” she breathed. “They are beautiful.”

  “You had one, didn’t you?” Kamaney said casually.

  “I caught one on the outskirts of your space,” Sediryl said. “They’re so pacific. I enjoyed having her.”

  “Did you,” the pirate murmured, and something in the way she said that…

  Sediryl did not correct Kamaney’s salacious assumption. “I would not mind having one again.”

  “Then you must,” Kamaney said. Sediryl was about to indicate Daize when the pirate stopped in front of another cage. “This one. Absolutely.” She opened the door casually, as if it had no lock, and said, “Out.”

  The Faulfenzair bent his? Her? Head and stepped from the cell, straightening. He—Sediryl was fairly certain—was shorter than Daize had been, and unlike Daize was white almost entirely… save for splashes of a brilliant crimson at ears and throat and fingertips. A very striking person, this Faulfenzair, but a stranger. Sediryl glanced past his shoulder at Daize and was surprised to find the Faulfenzair watching her. When their eyes met, Daize’s mouth formed the words: Say yes.

  “He’s glorious,” Sediryl said.

  “He is, isn’t he? And he matches your outfit.” Kamaney grinned. “Shall I have him sent to your room?”

  “I would love that.” Sediryl flashed the pirate a coquettish look. “Though I hope we’re not done with our walk. I am curious about the economics of slavery. Tell me more about which species are popular and which aren’t.”

  “It is fascinating, isn’t it?” Kamaney paused and said to the air, “Guard to the Faulfenzair bloc.” She continued, “There are things that surprised me when I started working this business.”

  “Such as?”

  “Take this slave to the Eldritch’s quarters,” Kamaney said to the guard and shut the door of the empty cell. “For instance. Harat-Shar? Sell very poorly.”

  “What? Why?” Sediryl frowned. “One would imagine they would be popular because of their reputations for licentiousness. Unless… that’s exactly why they don’t sell. Is it?”

  “Yes!” The pirate beamed at her. “It’s so nice to talk with someone who understands these things. You’re exactly right. The Harat-Shar often enjoy themselves too much. It makes them boring. Plus, their homeworld has legal slavery contracts, so there’s no need to steal them if you want one for a plaything. It takes some of the excitement out of the process if you know you could walk into any auction house on Harat-Sharii and buy what you want.”

  “That does make sense,” Sediryl said, longing only to end their tour. One last thing to do, though, and she thought she had an idea how to curtail it. “What are your least popular species, then?”

  “No question,” Kamaney said. “Glaseah. Very specialized clientele and not many of them. They’re not very interesting slaves. Even the Naysha get more attention… the people who want Naysha pay enormous amounts for them.”

  “Truly?” Sediryl asked, feigning surprise. “I have found Glaseah to be excellent servants.”

  “Exactly,” Kamaney said. “They’re great servants and horrible slaves.”

  “Ah.” Sediryl managed a thoughtful face. “Yes, I see. Most buyers are not seeking decorative servants. They want toys.”

  “But Eldritch buyers are going to want decorative servants?” Kamaney stroked her chin. “That’s promising. Maybe when you bring your people into the market, I’ll finally have someone to sell my less valuable species to.”

  “It’s entirely possible,” Sediryl said. “I have always liked the Glaseah. So striking with the black and white coats. It looks almost like livery, I think.”

  “It does!” Kamaney grinned. “I hadn’t thought of that. Maybe we should spin the marketing that way. Your very own butler, with built-in tuxedo.” She laughed. “Fantastic. That’s the first fresh idea I’ve heard in a year! For that, I’ll give you one. And I’ll let you pick this time.”

  “My own Glaseahn butler!” Sediryl laughed the silvery laugh she’d been forced to learn in deportment lessons. “Oh yes! I would love that. Please, let me see the selection.”

  “This way.”

  Sediryl suffered herself to be led back into the labyrinth, trying to ignore the people she could not save, because she couldn’t, could she? What freighter would be large enough to haul so many people? Where would she find it? There was no universe in which she could imagine effecting the escape of such a mass, and yet the thought that she’d have to leave them behind made her feel as if she’d been lanced in the side.

  She could tell Fleet about this place, and Fleet could save them. Surely that would work. It was all she had.

  “Here we are. As I mentioned, I don’t have much of a selection.”

  ‘Not much of a selection’ was still a good thirty individuals. Sediryl strolled alongside the cells, making much of her study, and her heart beat harder and harder until she finally found the face she’d been desperately hoping to see, and not see.

  “This one,” she breathed. She crouched in front of Vasiht’h, the stabilizers in her boots engaging. “Look at him. He’s so shiny.”

  “You’re sure?” Kamaney asked. “He looks sullen. You might have to shoot him.”

  “Shoot him!” Sediryl exclaimed, and realizing that she sounded horrified, schooled her f
ace to pettish disappointment. “But he’s so lovely. It would be such a waste.”

  “There’s more where he came from,” was the dismissive reply. “Like I said, Glaseah don’t sell well.”

  That look in Vasiht’h’s eyes… she couldn’t read it. Was that a good sign? Had they not crushed him yet? Or had he given up? She couldn’t tell and desperately wanted to know. “I do want this one. May I?”

  Kamaney grinned. “You really do like the life of luxury, don’t you.”

  “I am accustomed to it,” Sediryl answered, straightening.

  “I’ll have him delivered, then, after the exercise period.” Kamaney headed back toward the door.

  Sediryl cast one more look over her shoulder at Vasiht’h before following. “Exercise period.”

  “Oh, sure. The cages walk them for us several times a day. Keeps them from developing health problems.”

  “Truly,” Sediryl said, trying to sound admiring, “you have thought of everything!”

  “You should have seen this place before I took it over,” Kamaney said, disgusted. “Inconsistent. Dirty. Complete lack of discipline. They thought they could build an empire on rot.” She sniffed. “I taught them better.”

  “They do seem to respect you.”

  “They know better than to try anything. If any of them are left that want to.” Kamaney glanced at her slyly. “You wonder why I left you your weapon, I’m sure.”

  “I thought it a courtesy between potential allies.”

  The pirate laughed, hard. Wiped her eye with a finger. “Good one! Not that I didn’t think you might be a potential ally, but potential allies might become potential rivals if they think you’re weak.” She grinned, showing her teeth. “No, there’s a better reason. You want to know?”

  “I am curious,” Sediryl confessed.

  Kamaney nodded. “I would be too.” She nodded to one of the guards following them. “Staven. Shoot me.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” The guard whipped his gun from its holster, swung it up, and discharged it before Sediryl could exclaim. The noise battered her ears, but even as she flinched from it she saw the bright flash that arced over Kamaney’s body. Shocked, she halted completely. The pirate, who had continued walking during the demonstration, stopped a few paces away and looked over her shoulder, and that expression… oh, that had been no casual display.