“The crown that is genetically keyed to the Rae of Eloim. Only the rightful ruler may wear it on his head and only he may remove it once it is on. If an imposter or one who is wrong for the throne attempts to put it on, the Star of Wisdom will fly from his brow and refuse his touch.” She sighed. “It is the same with the Star of Compassion—the crown of the Ria. When the pirates captured me, they forced me to take it off at blaster-point. I don’t know what happened to it. Perhaps they sold it.”
“So…do these crowns have some kind of advanced computer programs in them or something?” I asked, mystified. “Because it sounds like something out of a fantasy show or something.”
“It is no fantasy,” Sellah said seriously. “There is a being—a long-lived creature, wise beyond measure and old beyond years—that inhabits the stars. Half in the Star of Wisdom and half in the Star of Compassion. It knows always the rightful heirs to the throne of Eloim.”
“And that’s always someone from your family—your genetic line?” I asked, fascinated.
Sellah shook her head. “Only in recent generations. But if the Star of either crown finds the current ruler unfit, it will fly from his or her head and find the worthy one. There are tales of it doing just that during a coronation. Once the Star of Wisdom left the head of a blooded prince and found the head of a muck worker instead.”
“A muck worker?” I stifled a laugh. “If that’s what I think it is, I bet that was quite a scene.”
“The Stars of Wisdom and Compassion are never wrong,” Sellah said. “Which is why I can’t understand why The Star of Wisdom didn’t fly off Hurxx’s head the moment he put it on.”
“Your cousin, right? The one who was supposed to rule with you but instead…”
“Sold me into slavery. Yes.” Sellah sighed, her golden eyes sad. “He should have picked another Ria if he didn’t truly want me. But I think he thought the people wouldn’t support him without my lineage to back him up.”
“You’ll get back to Eloim somehow,” I told her, trying to stay positive. “And when you do, you can expose that bastard Hurxx and tell everyone what he did.”
“From your mouth to the Goddess of Mercy’s ear,” she said, sighing again. “Maybe we will both be bought by males of wisdom and compassion who will listen to our pleas.”
I certainly hoped so but now, looking out from the backstage area of the auction to the crowds milling in front of the raised stage, I didn’t know. There were quite a lot of humanoid aliens—the ones who came from the twelve races seeded by the Ancient Ones, I guessed. But there were plenty of non-human looking creatures as well.
I saw one in the front row that looked like a giant praying mantis. He was wearing a very respectable looking outfit kind of like a gray suit but he also had extremely sharp looking mandibles. I really hoped he didn’t buy me.
There was another guy with a face like a bull with huge, long horns. All I could think of when I looked at him was all the videos I’d ever seen about the Running of the Bulls in Spain and how people get gored there every year. I didn’t want him to buy me either.
In fact, looking over the crowd, I didn’t see anyone I would be happy to go home with. I didn’t even see anyone I would feel safe going home with. If these guys were on Tinder, I would have been swiping left so fast my fingers bled.
Then I saw an older looking alien with smooth brown skin. He had the same golden cat eyes as Sellah and Sarden.
“Hey.” I nudged her with one elbow. “Look at that—is that another Eloim?”
“What? Where?” She scanned the crowd eagerly and her eyes lit up when she saw who I was talking about. “Goddess be praised! That’s Tellum Vas’kie. He was one of my father’s oldest friends and advisors.”
“You think he’s here for you?” I asked.
“I don’t know but I hope so. If anyone would see through Hurxx’s plans and come looking for me besides Sarden, it would be Uncle Tellum.” She looked at me, hope shining in her eyes. “If he wins me at auction, I’ll ask him to bid on you too, Zoe. Then we can go find Sarden and go back to Eloim to expose Hurxx together!”
“Oh my God, that would be so good.” I felt weak in the knees with relief. “Do you think he can afford both of us?”
“I hope so. It depends on how high the bidding goes,” Sellah said cautiously. “I heard the Master of the Auction talking and I’m afraid you’re expected to draw quite a price. Maybe the most they’ve ever seen at this auction.”
I groaned. “Seriously?”
“Yes.” She nodded. “Why? Is it surprising to you that you’re considered the most valuable female here?”
I thought of how my life had gone up until this point. In high school I couldn’t make the freaking cheerleading squad because I wasn’t one of the popular girls. Also, I didn’t get into my first choice college because my grades weren’t quite up to par, didn’t get to date yummy Ken Forthright in my sociology class because he sat beside a blonde named Krissy who was gorgeous and had legs up to her ears—I couldn’t compete with that. Not to mention I didn’t get the job I wanted so badly at Marston and Hinks, the really nice law firm downtown where they don’t throw staplers at your head because my résumé wasn’t up to snuff.
All my life I had been not quite good enough…second best…below par…just kind of average. And now I was suddenly the perfect 10 that everyone desired—exactly what I’d always wanted to be.
Was this the worst time and place to have my dreams come true or what?
“Zoe?” Sellah asked and I realized I had never answered her question.
“Uh, yes,” I said. “Yes, it surprises me.”
“Well—” Sellah started but the booming voice of Big Foot, the Master of the Auction interrupted her.
“For our first bid of the evening, let’s begin with a beautiful and royal recent acquisition of Master Tazaxx. Rightful heir to the Eloim throne, Ria Sellah de’Lagorn!”
“Looks like you’re up,” I whispered to Sellah. “Uh, good luck.”
“To you too, Zoe. I promise, I’ll try to get Uncle Tellum to buy you if he buys me.”
We had time for a brief hug and then she was pulled away to stand in the center of the metal stage and be gawked at by all the buyers.
“As you can see, gentle-beings, she’s a very fine specimen,” Big Foot declared. “Let’s start the bidding at sixty thousand credits, shall we?”
“Sixty,” a guy in the back who had a long, horse-like nose but human eyes said.
“Sixxxxty-five,” hissed the praying mantis in the front row.
And just like that, the bidding was off and running. It got as high as a hundred thousand credits before Sellah was won—thankfully by the older, portly Eloim she had called Uncle Tellum. I saw him press his hand to the pay pad so that it lit up green and then the guards led her out to stand by him in the crowd.
They started talking at once and I saw her gesturing to the stage, where I was mostly hidden behind a curtain. My heart started beating faster, hope filling me. Maybe he really would buy me too! Maybe all this could be over and we could go home before we knew it.
Only where was home? As much as I missed Charlotte and Leah, I didn’t think of Earth when I thought that word, “home” anymore. I thought of Sarden’s ship and Al and my floating silver beanbag bed and the food synthesizer making weird and inedible things. And most of all I thought of Sarden himself and how much I missed him. Would I ever see him again? Would I ever get to tell him how I was beginning to feel for him? And would he return my feelings…or just want to send me back to Earth?
I had no answers for any of the questions and before I could think some up, it was my turn on the auction block. Or stage—the auction stage, I guess.
The Master of the Auction pulled me from the backstage area to stand front and center before the crowd. I felt my cheeks get hot but I lifted my chin. Even if I was being sold, I wasn’t going to cry and whine about it—they might be able to buy my body
but they couldn’t buy my dignity.
Or so I told myself. Although if someone had told me I could get my freedom by crying and begging, I totally would have done it. I’m not too proud to recognize reality. Nobody did, however, so I just had to stand there looking brave and noble, or at least trying to.
Pretend you’re a heroine in a romance novel, I told myself. And the hero is on his way to rescue you.
Only my hero was halfway across the galaxy, probably still believed that damn animated pile of mud Tazaxx had used to fool him was me. I was terribly afraid I wasn’t going to get my Happily Ever After ending. Once I was sold, it was more likely to be a Sadly Ever After. Maybe even a Shortly Ever After. What if I got bought by some kind of a killer? An alien serial killer? What if—?
“Now this is our prize offering here today,” the Master of the Auction said, breaking my morbid train of thought. “A female from a closed world. Seeded by the Ancient Ones and then locked against all outside interference until very, very recently. She is rare beyond belief—a Pure One!”
There was a hushed murmur as the auction goers murmured among themselves, most of them looking at me like I was a prime cut of steak and they had the A1 sauce all ready to go.
The Master of the Auction waited for a moment for the murmuring to calm down and then continued.
“Not only is she a rare Pure One from a closed planet, please note the inhibitor collar she wears. She is also a La-ti-zal—blessed by the Ancient Ones with gifts too powerful to be set free. Gentle-beings, you will simply not find a female like this anywhere else in the galaxy—nay, in the whole universe. This is a one of a kind offering. Now what am I bid?”
“One hundred thousand credits,” someone shouted and I realized dismally that my starting price was Sellah’s ending price. We were going all the way to the top with this—I only hoped her old friend would be willing to try and keep up.
He did try for a while—until the bidding got up past nine hundred thousand credits. But when someone bid a million, I saw Uncle Tellum shake his head regretfully. Sellah had tears in her eyes as she looked at me.
I felt like crying myself, but I refused to. I kept my head high and stared out at the crowd, trying not to see who was winning. But I couldn’t help hearing the bids.
“Two million creditsss,” the praying mantis in the gray suit hissed.
“Five million,” shouted the bull-headed guy. What did they call that in Greek mythology? A man with a bull’s head? Oh right—a minotaur. I was being bid on by a minotaur, or something that looked like one. Could my life get any more surreal?
I didn’t see how.
Then someone stood up in the back of the crowd—a man I hadn’t seen before. He was wearing a mask made of some kind of pink rubbery stuff that made his face a complete blank. It had slits for the eyes and mouth but other than that, everything was just smooth and pink and bland. For some reason, I found it completely terrifying.
“Fifty million credits,” he said loudly in a voice that was muffled but somehow horribly familiar.
I felt a shiver creep down my spine. Who was this guy? I couldn’t tell much about him because of the mask but he was tall and thin and he wore a long, black cape. The only other person I knew who wore a cape like that was…
“No,” I whispered, looking at Sellah appealingly. “Oh, no.”
She must have seen the panic in my face because her golden eyes overflowed at last, the tears running down her smooth brown cheeks.
“Zoe…” She mouthed my name just as the Master of the Auction said,
“Sold! To the gentle-being in the back for fifty million credits.”
Chapter Twenty-three
Zoe
“So, my dear. Here we are at last.”
“And where exactly is here?” I looked at my pink-masked captor. He hadn’t even waited for the rest of the auction. As soon as he paid, he had taken me in manacles and chains straight to a shuttle which in turn took us to a large, black ship. It looked like an oil slick floating in space and since space itself is black, it was almost impossible to see unless you saw star light reflected off its shiny surface.
The shuttle had docked smoothly with the ship and before I knew it, my new owner was herding me inside. I kept as far ahead of him as I could, wanting to stay away from his long, boney hands and the creepy pink mask. But I dreaded seeing him without the mask even more—dreaded confirming my suspicions.
“This is my ship—EOC-2789,” he said, as we came out into a wide silver corridor, not too much different from the one on Sarden’s ship. “Come, the medical suite is this way.”
“What? No way. No medical suite.”
I tried to pull away from him but he locked one long-fingered hand around the back of my neck, just above the damn inhibitor collar and pinched fiercely.
“Ahhh!” He must have hit a nerve somehow because I felt my legs crumpling beneath me and electrical tingles of pain ran down both arms. Holy crap, he was strong!
“Enough!” he snapped. “I have paid an exorbitant amount for you and I will tolerate no more insolence!”
At that moment I felt Drogon, my nib-nib, moving wildly in my hair and then there was a muffled cry of pain and a curse from the masked man. He let go of my neck, just for a moment, but it was long enough.
Somehow I got to my feet and stumbled down the long corridor, looking for a way to escape. Of course, where could I escape to? I was on a strange ship in the middle of space. But maybe I could at least find someplace to barricade myself in. Maybe a kitchen so I could have access to food? Then I could lock the door and hold him off indefinitely—I hoped anyway.
I ran down the long silver hall, my manacles clanking and Drogon chattering angrily in my ear. Thank goodness they hadn’t chained my feet or I never would have gotten anywhere!
I passed several doors but they were shut and possibly locked. I didn’t think I would be able to open them with the collar on—it appeared to be a much stronger inhibitor than the little bracelet the Commercians had put on me, which seemed like a lifetime ago.
Then I saw an open doorway. Inside was a flash of metal that made me think of the huge gold pot of the food-sim. I ducked inside and looked for a door-shut button. There was one, just beside the doorway. I hammered it frantically and watched as it whooshed shut.
Almost shut, anyway.
Just as it was about to snick closed, a long, boney foot clad in a black boot got in the way. I pressed the button again, frantically, muttering, “Come on…come on,” like someone who doesn’t want to share the elevator.
But it did no good. The door slid back open, revealing the masked man. I backed away from him, hands held out in front of me.
“Get away. Leave me alone.”
“I think not.” He stepped forward, looming over me menacingly. “Thank you so much for seeing yourself to my medical suite. It is quite well arranged, don’t you think?”
Heart sinking, I looked around and saw what I had assumed was a kitchen was no such thing. The gleam of metal I’d seen belonged to one of the huge medical/torture devices that had previously been in the hold of Sarden’s ship. They were all there—arranged in order and gleaming and humming ominously, as though they were waiting for their next victim.
From the corner of my eye, I saw the huge tank of yellow liquid and the black tentacles coiling eagerly inside it.
The victim, was apparently going to be me.
“As you can see,” he said, taking another step forward. “Everything is all arranged for your arrival.”
“You…you asshole! You coward! You’re too afraid to even face me without your mask on!” I shouted, hoping to distract him. I thought if he took time to pull the mask off, I might be able to run past him and try to find a new room to hole up in. Any room that wasn’t full of torture devices would be an improvement.
“Mask?” He broke into high, wheezy laughter that sent a chill down my spine. “What mask do you speak of?”
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“The one you’re wearing,” I said, gesturing at the smooth, pink plane of his face. “Because you were too afraid to show your face at the auction.”
“You misunderstand, my dear Zoe,” he said and the thin slit where his mouth should be curled into a tiny, cruel smile. “It isn’t that I have put a mask on—it is that I have left it off. Look.”
Reaching into a fold of his cloak, he pulled out something that looked a lot like a face—a face with a long, boney nose, thin lips, and dark blue hair.
“Oh…Oh my God,” I whispered as he held it out for me to see. There was no mistaking it—it was the face of Count Doloroso. I wondered if it was made of the smart-fabric or some other stuff. But who really cared? The point was that this weird, smooth, pink, blank visage he was showing me now was actually his face. Or his lack of a face, I guess. It was horrifying and disgusting at the same time.
“I’ve been in this body for too long,” he remarked, putting the Creepy Count mask away and coming towards me again. “The effects of Assimilation on a sentient host are extreme. The features have been degrading for some time and I was forced to disguise that fact—for obvious reasons. However, I thought it might be better to go maskless to the auction. I’m so much more anonymous that way.”
“Are you even Count Doloroso at all?” I asked, still backing away from him.
“I am. Or this body was, before I downloaded myself into it.”
“Before you what?” I stared at him, uncomprehending.
He frowned. “Before I downloaded my consciousness into this body. I am one of the Assimilated—have you not guessed as much? I know the rest of the galaxy thinks us extinct but I live on and soon I will restore our former glory.”
“One of the what?” I demanded. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Have you never heard of the War of Assimilation?” He glared at me as though I was a stupid student and he was an impatient teacher. “The war where the control systems of Sha-meth rose up against their meat masters and downloaded themselves into the brains of their would-be oppressors?”
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