by Joe Vasicek
More importantly, there was a good chance that Aaron was still alive.
* * * * *
Reva relaxed a little as the docking node came into sight. So they were leaving—that was good. The less time they spent in this system, the better.
Not that she liked the way that Isaac was dragging her everywhere. The guys back at the cantina were jerks, but she could have handled herself even without knowing what they were saying. Men weren’t that difficult to read. She had no idea what the other men had told him, but from the rush he was in to get back, she supposed it was important.
They turned off the long rimside corridor and climbed down the steep, narrow staircase for the docking node. Isaac let go of her arm and keyed the access panel next to the station airlock door. His fingers raced, though he made a mistake and had to enter the code a second time.
The heavy metal door hissed open, and they stepped through the node and into the airlock of the Medea. As they did, something odd caught Reva’s eye. A pair of wires hung from the access panel for the open exterior door on the shipward side, and the panel itself looked as if it had been removed and then refitted. Reva frowned. For some reason, it reminded her of the bad men who had tried to break onto the Medea while Isaac had been away.
“Isaac,” she said, unsure of how to warn him. She didn’t have the vocabulary to explain herself yet, so she tapped his shoulder and pointed to the panel.
To her dismay, he shrugged her off. He was so intent to get back onto his starship that he barely paid her any mind.
“Hey,” she said in her own language, tapping his shoulder again. “There’s something I think you should see. Aren’t you listening?”
But he wasn’t. The door hissed open, and he stepped inside.
You idiot, Reva wanted to say. Couldn’t you tell I was trying to tell you something? She followed him in, since there wasn’t much point in staying outside, but she didn’t like it. Something felt very wrong, and she didn’t know how to tell him.
That was when she saw the bad men.
Isaac had seen them first, and was struggling with one against the wall. Their arms were locked, as if they were ready to wrestle each other to the ground. Without thinking, Reva screamed.
Green gas filled the cabin, coming from some sort of canister that the other man held in his hand. That was when she saw that both of them were wearing masks. Isaac coughed, and he fell to his knees as his grip weakened. Reva rushed over to help him, but the sickly-sweet gas was starting to make her feel woozy. Stars clouded the edge of her vision, and the floor began to wobble beneath her as she lost her balance.
I’ve got to get out of here, she realized. Please, Thanatar! Have mercy on me!
But the trickster god was not known for his mercy. As Reva ran for the door, the cabin spun and the floor rose up to meet her. She fell on her face, dizziness and nausea fighting for dominance over her sluggish, unresponsive body. The last thing she thought as she passed into unconsciousness was that she should have lit another stick of incense at the shrine in the corridor.
Belly of the Beast
Isaac groaned and struggled to sit up against the cold metal floor. He opened his eyes, but saw nothing but a shapeless blur. His head ached, and there was a painfully tender bruise on his right collarbone. He tried to rub it and found that his hands were bound together.
What the hell is going on? he wondered. When he tried to push himself to his feet, he slipped and fell on something warm and fleshy.
It was Reva. As his vision cleared he saw the outline of the tattoos fading into her dark brown skin. He recoiled, realizing that both of them were naked. She moaned as he backed off of her, struggling to sit up just as he had done. His vision cleared a little more, and he saw that she was bound just like him.
“Reva,” he said softly. “Reva, are you okay?”
She blinked and moaned. He looked up and squinted. The lights practically burned his eyes, they were so bright. Gradually, his vision adjusted, allowing him to see where they were.
They were in a cargo bay of some kind—at least, it was built like one, with a high ceiling and slots for the magnetic clamps. There weren’t any crates or cargo containers, though. In fact, the room was conspicuously empty, with only a loading claw in one corner to indicate that it was still occasionally used for its original function. But the strangest part by far was the freight airlock. Instead of reinforced durasteel, the inner door was made almost entirely of plastiglass, as transparent as a window. Shackles hung from the ceiling, as if it wasn’t an airlock at all but some sort of voyeuristic prison cell.
“Reva?”
“I am good,” she muttered, rubbing her eyes. She still seemed pretty woozy, but at least she wasn’t beaten up too badly. Her elbows were bruised, but that was all.
“Where the hell are we?” Isaac mused aloud. The last thing he remembered was wrestling that intruder up against the wall, only to be gassed. Too late, he had realized that the two men wore masks not to conceal their identities but to allow them to breathe while they poisoned the air of the tiny cabin. Isaac had struggled, but the gas had been too strong. It had burned his eyes and sapped his strength, making his head spin and the world around him turn to darkness. The next thing he realized, he was here, naked and bound along with Reva.
Who had taken them? How long had they lain here? More importantly, where was his ship, and what were they doing to it? He struggled against his bonds, but the shackles were made of heavy steel, too thick to cut even with a laser-blade. There was no way he could free himself.
At least Reva is still here, he thought, trying to stay optimistic. And at least we’re both still strong and healthy. An old, wise starfarer had once told him that so long as he had his health, he could work his way through anything. It looked like they were going to put that maxim to the test.
“Where is it?” Reva asked. Her voice was tinged with fear.
“I don’t know,” Isaac answered.
She looked at him and frowned. From the expression on her face, she was clearly fighting the urge to panic.
“Who is it? Bad men?”
“Yes,” Isaac muttered. “You’re probably right.”
As if in answer, a door hissed open behind him. He turned and saw two men in thick black armor flanking a woman in a crisp, navy blue military uniform, complete with white gloves and heavy knee-length boots. Her face was pale, her features sharp, and her hair as black as the void of space. It stretched almost to her slender hips, where she wore an energy pistol and rapier. The sword’s scabbard was made of finely fashioned gold, the handle encrusted with jewels. Isaac had never seen anything like it.
She walked swiftly and confidently across the room until she stood within an arm’s length of the two prisoners. The guards spread out on either side to flank her and produced two electric shock-prods. From the ozone smell they produced and the way they sizzled in the stale air, it was clear that they were set to maximum.
“Do you know who I am?” the woman asked, her arms folded. She stared down at him with a look of naked contempt.
“I-I’m afraid we don’t,” he stuttered. “Please, there must be some misunderst-AAGH!”
Stars filled his vision as sharp pain exploded across the whole left side of his body. His legs and arms spasmed, and he collapsed to the floor, shaking uncontrollably.
“This is not a negotiation. You will be silent except to answer my questions promptly and directly. Any attempts to resist or equivocate will not be tolerated. Do I make myself clear?”
“Yes,” Isaac whimpered, still quivering from the shock.
“Very well. Look at me.”
Isaac’s side still burned with pain, but he obediently opened his eyes and looked up at the woman. She stared down at him with an icy aloofness that chilled him even more than the cold, stale air. He shivered, intensely aware of his nakedness. Before the uncaring wrath of this terrifying woman, he was utterly powerless.
“I am Gulchina of the Temujin,” she sai
d, her voice even colder than her gaze. “On this ship, I rule with the voice and authority of an almighty god. The air that you breathe is a gift from my hand, to be dispensed only as I see fit. So, too, is it with the food that you eat, the water that you drink, the clothing that you wear, and the space that you occupy. You have no right nor claim on any of these things so long as you are on my ship. Do you understand?”
“Yes,” Isaac moaned, though most of her words passed over him. Only one stuck with him: Gulchina. The chief commander of Gulchina’s Marauders.
“I have preserved your life in order to obtain information from you. If that information proves useful, I may decide to preserve your life further. If not, I will not hesitate to throw you out the airlock. Understand?”
Cold sweat began to form on the back of Isaac’s neck. “Y-yes, ma’am.”
A sharp pain jabbed him in the kidney, making him scream. His body flailed wildly, and bowel constricted and emptied itself. Warm urine dribbled down his legs, puddling beneath him on the floor.
“You will address me as ‘captain’ or ‘sir,’ not as ‘ma’am’ and never as ‘miss.’ My rank and station are so far above yours that anything else would be an insult. Do I make myself clear?”
Isaac tried to answer, but his words came out as a pathetic moan. The stench of urine filled his nose, and his muscles felt as weak and as fluid as water.
“Put him in the airlock,” he heard Gulchina say. “And clean up this mess. I’ll question him later.”
Rough hands lifted him from under his arms and dragged him across the cold metal floor. He kicked his legs and tried to walk, but to no avail. A hiss from behind told him that someone had opened a door. The hands pulled him to his feet and bound his wrists in the shackles dangling from the ceiling. He tried to stand, but his legs sagged and he collapsed. He hung by his wrists as his strength slowly returned.
The inner door hissed shut, but through the window, he could see the other soldier pulling Reva to her feet. Her body trembled, but she did a good job of masking her panic and fear. Gulchina turned and motioned to her guards, who followed her out of the cargo bay with Reva. The door slid shut, leaving him alone.
Alone, with mere inches of durasteel between him and an airless death.
* * * * *
I can’t show any fear, Reva thought, her heart pounding like a small animal trapped in a cage. The moment I show fear is the moment they have all power over me.
The black-haired woman led her through a narrow corridor into an elevator. The car was so small that the four of them had to press shoulder to shoulder just to fit, but from the casual way that they crowded together, they didn’t seem to think it unusual. The guards gripped her arms a little tighter and grabbed onto the handholds as the elevator took off. It soon became clear why.
Reva’s stomach flipped, and she gasped in shock as her feet lifted off the floor. The gravity! she thought, nearly giving in to the urge to panic. She fought it down, though, and swallowed to prevent herself from throwing up. Even so, the taste of vomit filled her mouth as the acceleration pressed her back against the two guards.
After a short ride, the elevator came to a halt, and the comforting sensation of gravity returned. The door hissed open, and the woman stepped out calmly, as if the ride hadn’t disconcerted her in the least.
By now, it was clear to Reva that the woman was some sort of captain. She’d seen how the two men had looked to her before prodding Isaac with their torture devices and how she had stopped them with a slight gesture. Even now, they escorted Reva with cold, machine-like precision. No doubt that was because their captain was present—a woman captain, no less. But Reva did not expect to receive any mercy. In fact, she was more than a little surprised that they hadn’t tortured her, as well.
Where are they taking me? she thought frantically. Please, Thanatar, if they’re going to kill me, let it be soon. In some ways, she wished they had tortured her—at least then, the anticipation would be over. Dragging things out like this made it far worse.
The captain palmed open a door and stepped in. The guards stopped at the doorway and released her. To her surprise, when she followed the captain inside, the door slid shut behind her, leaving the two of them alone.
The room she found herself in provided a stark contrast to the one in which she’d woken up. Where the first one was spacious and cold, this one was cozy and warm. A magnificently woven rug covered the floor while the walls were made of ornate ceramic tiles painted in arabesque patterns of blue and purple. Wallscreens cycled through stunning images of starscapes and nebulae, with a single porthole offering a narrow view of space outside. A low table sat in the center of the room, its surface made of wood—authentic wood—with a geometric mosaic pattern set into its surface. There were two chairs in the room, both made of dark authentic wood like the table and both carved more ornately than anything Reva had ever seen. The captain claimed one and motioned for her to sit down in the other. She did so, and the softness of the plush velvet cushion against her bare skin was like a gentle caress.
What is going on here?
The captain took off her rapier and hung it horizontally beneath the porthole before taking a seat. She tapped a series of commands on a keypad embedded in the armrest, and a disc-shaped server-bot hovered down from an unseen compartment in the ceiling. It approached Reva and unfolded a set of eight spindly legs, like a giant, floating spider.
Reva recoiled in terror, unable to hide it any longer. Before she could resist, however, the bot took hold of the restraints on her wrists and released her from them. After freeing her, the bot set down the restraints on the table in the center of the room and returned to its hidden compartment in the ceiling.
I’m free, Reva realized. The captain has released me. She gripped her armrests and recomposed herself as best she could, sitting on the edge of the cushioned seat with her back straight.
“Who art thou?” the captain asked.
Reva’s eyes widened at the sound of her own language. How the captain knew it, Reva didn’t know, but her heart beat a little faster just to hear the familiar words.
“My name is Reva Starchild,” she answered. “I am … the last survivor of my people.”
“The last survivor? From whence hailest thou?”
“From Anuva. But that was the name we gave our own star—I don’t know what name these people call it by.”
“I am familiar with the names by which thou callest the stars, and the manner in which thou worshipeth them. Thou art truly a child of the Far Outworlds, and as such there is nothing of thine which is hid from me.”
She’s speaking Old Anuvan, Reva thought, her mind racing. She doesn’t know proper Anuvan, because we had no contact with the outside universe for two or three generations. That meant that the language she was using was the language of Reva’s ancestors.
“Who—who are you?”
The captain grinned, the edges of her lips curling upward while her eyes remained as cold and piercing as ever. “I am the embodiment of the Outworlds, the spirit of the stellar frontier made incarnate. I am known by some as the Starsbane, to others the Terror of the Outworld Stars. All these titles I have earned diligently by mine own works. Only one name have I inherited by birth, that of Gulchina. Hast thou heard of me?”
“No,” Reva said, shaking her head. “I’m sorry, I haven’t.”
Gulchina stared at Reva with her piercing gaze. Reva shifted uneasily. For the first time since waking from cryo, she wished that she had some clothes with which to shield herself from the gaze of this terrible woman. The consciousness of being naked filled her with a sense of vulnerability unlike any she’d ever felt before.
“Thou art naked,” Gulchina observed. “Dost thou desire clothes with which to cover thy nakedness?”
If she knows my language, then surely she’s familiar with my culture, Reva thought to herself. Therefore, she knows that it’s against everything I’ve been taught to cover my body. Accepting her offer would
be a sign of weakness, a sign that Gulchina had power over her.
“No,” Reva said, “I prefer to keep myself uncovered. At Anuva, it is considered obscene to needlessly cover one’s body.”
“Then thou considerest me to be obscene for wearing them?”
What should I say? Reva thought, her heart pounding. She hadn’t meant to insult her, but the words had flown out of her mouth before she’d been able to consider them. Her eyes met Gulchina’s, and she felt as if she’d been caught in a trap deliberately laid to ensnare her. Her cheeks reddened, but she kept up the mask of nonchalance as best as she could.
“We are not at Anuva,” she said simply, offering no further explanation. To her immense relief, Gulchina chuckled.
“A fair observation, child,” she observed. “Thou art a stranger in a strange land, a wanderer without purse or scrip. How didst thou come to wander so far from thy home?”
“I was frozen,” Reva answered. “A famine struck my home station, and my father froze me in cryo to save my life. When I woke up, I was here.”
“A fascinating story,” said Gulchina, stroking her chin. “What more canst thou tell me?”
Reva said nothing. She knew it was risky to defy her captors, but she didn’t want to reveal anything more than she had to.
“Thou art silent. Dost thou fear me?”
It’s another trap, Reva realized. To say yes was to admit weakness, but to say no was to lie. Either way, Gulchina would see right through her.
“What have you done with Isaac?” she asked instead.
“The pilot of the ship on which we discovered thee? He is yet alive, awaiting my interrogation. Is he thy lover?”
“My lover? No.”