by Michael Karr
“You left your post, remember?” she said.
The comment stung. He deserved it, he well knew.
“You know what I mean. How did you end up on the ship?”
“I followed you,” she said simply.
Then she proceeded to recount her tale.
“Once you left me at the port, I waited in the crowd for a few minutes to make sure you didn’t look back. Then, I set off after you. It was rather easy, actually. The streets were not so crowded as the first day we arrived on Oon Vunda. When you reached the rug shop, I just waited outside. But nothing happened for a long time.
“I started to snoop around. There was a narrow alleyway near the rug shop. It led me to a larger alley running behind the rug shop and all the other shops nearby. Not knowing which back entrance belonged to the rug shop, I wandered over to where I estimated it should be. Just before I got to the spot, a large warehouse door started opening. I quickly hid behind a pile of disposal bins.
“A transport, carrying a load of crates, barrels, and boxes emerged. Tanks’ men were all sprawled around the cargo, like drunken guards. Tanks himself drove the transport. But I saw no sign of any of you. It didn’t take me long to understand. The sickening grin on Tanks’ face said it all: either the three of you were dead, or else being held hostage. It didn’t make sense to me that he would kill you out of hand so quickly. I decided to follow the transport.
“It was more a challenge to keep up with than you three on foot, but I managed well enough. It led me back to the port. Once Tanks’ goons finished loading up the cargo, I slipped inside the hold without anyone noticing me. Then I just waited. I was grateful for the few provisions you sent with me. Otherwise, I would have fainted from hunger long before I came to rescue you.”
After she completed her account, everyone stared at her in awe. Grüny was the first to break the silence.
“I take back what I said when I called you a stowaway,” he said, soberly. “You’re welcome on the Luna anytime.”
“That’s a real comfort to her,” said Endrick, “seeing as how we’re all going to die now.”
Skylar shook his head.
“You shouldn’t have come back,” he said. “You’ve only put yourself in terrible danger.”
“You shouldn’t have left your post,” she replied. “You’ve only put us all in more danger.”
Skylar huffed in reply. She shouldn’t be here.
“Cut out the chatter!”
A gruff voice from outside the brig broke off the conversation. Slem and one of the larger remaining smugglers were approaching the bars. Slem opened the door and leveled his blaster at them. Skylar stepped protectively in front of Kendyl.
“Playtime’s over you worthless troublemakers,” he said. “To the main deck with all of ya. The boss is waiting. He’s gonna make ya wish you was dead like that other bloke. So, don’t even think about any more funny business, or you’ll really be sorry.”
He waved the muzzle of his blaster curtly through the air, a signal for them to fall in line and exit the brig. As they walked out the guards leered and them and chuckled discomfitingly. After Skylar passed through the threshold to the brig, he heard the guard stop Kendyl.
His stomach lurched.
“Here’s the little urchin who somehow got aboard,” said Slem. “The boss will have some words for you.”
“We’re all out of guest clothes,” he added with another chuckle. “You’ll have to leave on that hideous outfit.”
Skylar felt a rush of relief. If the smugglers made her change, they would discover that she was not a boy. Nothing good could come of that—not with these vile creatures.
On the upper level, Tanks was indeed waiting for them. If possible, his face looked even more sour than usual. He held a short whip in his hand. A wicked-looking implement, which Tanks appeared ready to employ at the slightest provocation.
“I’m glad to see you’re all rested,” he sneered. “You’re gonna need it.”
He stroked the thongs of his whip. Without warning, he slashed the whip across Endrick’s face. The crack of it rang in Skylar’s ears, made him wince and boil with anger all in the same moment.
“I lost two good men because of your little attempt to escape,” he growled.
Crack!
The whip struck another in the line.
“This is my ship.”
Crack!
“You will submit to me.”
Crack!
“You are slaves.”
Crack!
“On Gorgoroth, the penalty for a slave who tries to escape is far worse than death. I am dealing mercifully with you.”
Tanks came to a halt in front of Skylar and studied him for a moment.
Skylar braced himself for the strike. Kendyl would be next. How could he let her be whipped? He could try to stop Tanks, to put himself in front of her. Surely that would only put her in more danger, make Tanks suspicious of her.
If only I’d stayed at my post...
“Is this the little weakling who caused so much trouble?” said Tanks, passing over Skylar. “I don’t know how you got on my ship, boy. But it doesn’t matter. You’re mine now. And you’d better fetch a nice reward at the slave market.”
He raised his whip in the air.
Out of the corner of his eye, Skylar could see Kendyl cower. He clenched his fists but did not move.
“No,” said Tanks, lowering his upraised hand, “I’ll save your face. Some masters like their boy servants with unmarred faces. Might be worth a little extra. But don’t think you’re free from punishment. I can always lash your back. No one cares how pretty a slave’s back looks.”
“Now,” he said, turning away from Kendyl and addressing the line of captives, “get to work. I think you’ll find that I was too lenient with you before.”
Over the next several days, Tanks made good on his promise. If possible, they were made to work twice as hard as before, and sleep half as long. Skylar worked until his entire body felt numb. His fingers bled from scrubbing. His back screamed with pain from crouching. If they were guarded well before, they were doubly guarded now. Skylar couldn’t so much as glance in Kendyl’s direction without a blaster butt to his kidneys.
Worse than the sheer exhaustion and physical abuse was watching Kendyl suffer. Though she had told her story, he still didn’t understand why she followed them. Why she persisted when he’d tried his best to act cold and uncaring. Did she actually care about him, after all? Must he treat her with even more indifference? For the time being, it did not matter. There was nothing he could do to ensure that she was safely returned to Haladras now. All he could hope for is that the smugglers did not discover she was female.
The days began to blur from one to the next, an endless stream of drudgery. It was during one of these days that their guards interrupted the morning grind with an announcement.
“The boss says,” began Slem, “that you all stink. As we’ll be arriving in Gorgoroth soon, so you need to be presentable like. To the decontamination chamber with all of ya.”
Skylar dropped the begrimed rag he was using to wax the floor with and rose to his feet mechanically. The guards ushered the whole group of captives down to the bottom level of the ship. Before Skylar reached the final step on the stairs, he awoke to the gravity of the situation. The decontamination chamber. Surely the guards weren’t planning to grant them any kind of privacy down there. Kendyl had no hope of concealing her true gender.
The decontamination chamber was little more than a steel box, tall enough for any man to stand up in. Wide enough to fit a corpulent man’s girth. A single elongated hole permitted entry into the chamber. From within, it glowed bright white, contrasting with all the gray façade which surrounded them. The chamber operated by stripping one’s epidermis of all bacteria, dirt, and other foreign matter. It did so using a combination of hyper-violet lights, heat, and compressed ionized air. Given the scarcity of wat
er on his home planet of Haladras, Skylar had used similar chambers all throughout his life.
“A’right,” commanded Slem, “strip off your garments and line up in front of the decontaminator.”
The captive men immediately began pulling off their clothes. Skylar shot an anxious glance at Kendyl. Her face looked drain of all color. He had to do something. If nothing else, to save her from pure humiliation.
“Quick,” whispered Skylar to her as quietly as he could manage, “pretend like you’re going to be sick.”
She would hardly have to act, he realized. Another minute and she might actually vomit all over the smuggler’s boots.
“What’s going on here!” demanded one of the guards. “We said strip off those clothes. And no jabbering”
“He’s not well,” said Skylar, putting his arm around Kendyl’s shoulders. She was doubled-over, making pitiful groaning sounds. “He’s going to be sick. Let me take him back to the brig—”
“You’ll do no such thing. And I don’t care if he is sick. Serves him right. But he’ll be clean if I have to tear those clothes off of him himself.”
The guard reached for Kendyl, grabbed her by the arm, and yanked her in front of his grimy face.
“What’s the matter, boy?” jeered Slem. “Afraid to take off your clothes? Here, maybe my knife will help you out.”
Taking the blade of his dagger, Slem grabbed at Kendyl’s robe, just below the navel, and pierced the fabric. Kendyl shrieked and tried to jerk away, but the guard held her fast. Without realizing what he was doing, Skylar rammed Slem with all the force he could muster. When he struck, he felt like he’d hit a stone wall.
“Let her go!” he cried, wresting her from the smuggler’s grip.
Slem snarled at Skylar, and drew up his dagger to strike.
“I’ll teach you to interfere, boy!”
Skylar raised his hand, defensively, anticipating the blade slicing into his skin. The guard, however, did not strike. The red-hot anger in the man’s face suddenly dissolved into a look of confusion.
“Her?” he said.
Skylar immediately comprehended his folly. Too late to correct.
Slem reached out and snatched the cap from Kendyl’s head. Flaming locks of hair came spilling out like a waterfall of fire.
A hungry smile contorted the Slem’s face.
“Her…”
Sixteen
Slem grabbed Kendyl by the wrist and yanked her closer. Latching onto her other wrist with his free hand, he held her next to his massive chest. Kendyl let out a squeal and tried to break away. But Slem’s iron grip held fast.
“I know exactly what to do with this one,” he said, licking his pudgy lips.
“Get your grimy hands off her!” cried Skylar, as he attempted to free Kendyl from the smuggler’s grasp.
Slem lifted a booted foot, and struck Skylar squaring in the gut. The wind rushed out of his lungs, his body hurled backward. As he hit the floor, he gasped for air. He forced himself to climb to his feet again and prepare to charge back.
A steady hand gripped his shoulder.
“You won’t help her any if you’re dead,” said Endrick in a low tone. “Stand down or you’ll get yourself shot. They have weapons, we don’t.”
Skylar didn’t care if they killed him. He couldn’t just stand by and watch these brutes have their way with Kendyl. Endrick, was right, though. Nothing he could do at that moment could possibly help her. They were powerless again the smugglers’ blasters.
“Is that your boyfriend?” jeered Slem, pulling Kendyl tighter against his chest. “You deserve better than that scrawny imp. I’ll show you what a real man—”
Kendyl suddenly stamped the heel of her foot down onto the guard’s toes with a crushing force. A sharp crack of bones, following by a holler of pain from the guard made Skylar wince. Caught by surprise and shocked with pain, Slem let loose his hold on Kendyl’s right wrist. Desperately, she tried to flee. But Slem kept hold of the other.
Quickly recovering, the guard raised a clenched fist.
“Want to play rough, is it?” he snarled. “I can play as rough as you like.”
He made to strike.
“Don’t touch her!” commanded a voice that made Slem freeze.
All turned to find Tanks standing by, his eyes fixed on Kendyl. That same discomfiting smile which made Skylar’s stomach churn the first time they met covered the smuggler chief’s face. That same feeling filled Skylar now—only magnified ten times over.
“Come on, Boss,” said the Slem, sounding like a reprimanded schoolboy. “I was just going to have a little fun with her.”
“No,” snapped Tanks, stepping closer. “None of you will touch her. A pretty little jewel like that will fetch four times what the whole lot of them will.”
He made a scornful gesture in the direction of Skylar and the other captives.
“But she must be undamaged. Unabused,” he went on. “Do you understand?”
Slem grudgingly affirmed.
“Good,” said Tanks. “Now, to ensure her safety, she’ll be kept in my quarters.”
It was all Skylar could do to keep from crying out in dismay. Safety? With that dog? She would be safer bound with cords and thrown into a serpent pit.
“Now,” he said to Kendyl, his oily voice full of suppressed venom, “if you cooperate—nicely—I promise not to do anything rash to your friends.”
Kendyl hesitated, turned and glanced back at Skylar. Don’t do it, Skylar wanted to say. What alternative did she have? Tanks—he knew—was not going to accept no for an answer. And for all his lack of honor, Tanks’ greed might be strong enough to curtail any of his other desires.
Slowly, Kendyl nodded her head.
Skylar thought he could feel the fear in her heart, throbbing tangibly through the stifling air.
Tanks held out his hand for her to take. Slem relinquished his grasp on her wrist. Showing that she had not suddenly transformed into Tanks’ submissive pet, she shrugged off his hand and walked defiantly toward the stairwell. Tanks’ greasy smile widened, then he turned and strode after her, arrogance ringing from every step.
Over the next several days, Skylar neither saw nor heard any sign of Kendyl. Tanks kept her too well locked away. “Safe.” Skylar could only imagine what Tanks could do. It made his blood boil in his veins to think of. He only hoped that should Tanks try anything that Kendyl would bite off any finger he tried to touch her with; thrash and claw and kick. Whatever it takes to deter him.
Even if she did survive the rest of the journey with Tanks unharmed, she would not be safe. As yet, he didn’t know what waited for her, or any of them, once they reached Gorgoroth. Slavery. But could it truly be worse than their current plight? He had no wish to find out. Though the smugglers commanded his body, his mind was free. He employed every waking moment in devising plans for Kendyl’s rescue, and their escape from the smugglers. Yet no plan he contrived was without some fatal flaw. If only he could get a weapon to Kendyl, a knife—anything—there might a chance. Even if he had a weapon, they weren’t allowed anywhere near Tanks’ quarters.
Before long, the smugglers announced their imminent arrival at Gorgoroth. Preparations for their landing began. Being a much larger ship than the Luna, the task took all morning. It might have gone faster had the smugglers not insisted on ushering them around at blaster point. Skylar didn’t blame them, though. Even in the final moments of descent, he would have sought for a way to liberate himself and his friends.
Skylar saw no sign of Kendyl through the whole landing preparations.
As soon as the captives completed the task of securing the ship for landing, the snugglers ushered them into a narrow chamber. Lining one side of the walls were a dozen seats, designed to fold away into the bulwark. The thick black straps and buckles of safely harnesses draped over the seats, which were bare of any padding entirely.
The guards ordered them into the seats. Sky
lar was surprised that the smugglers would go through any pains to see them safely harnessed for the descent. Then he realized that they only wanted to protect their investment. If something happened to one of the captives, the smugglers would lose money. Skylar grimly thought how he’d love to deny the smugglers that satisfaction. Once Skylar and the others were securely harnessed into the seat, the smugglers left them, locking the door to the chamber on their way out.
It took Skylar some moments to realize that they were alone—without anyone to stand guard over them. The companions could speak to one another. Skylar didn’t know what to say, though. What could he say? All felt hopeless and lost to him. Endrick broke the silence first.
“I suppose these are our last moments together,” he said nonchalantly. “If any of you ever make it back to Ahlderon, could you send me one of Maud’s tarts? On second thought, don’t bother. They’ll probably have starved me to death long before that.”
“If only I could get my hands around that filthy smuggler’s neck…” said Grüny. “I swear, I’ll make him pay for this.”
Skylar remained quiet. What words of comfort could he possibly give to these brave men who put their lives in his hands? He’d failed them.
Within a quarter of an hour, Skylar felt the tell-tale signs that the ship was re-entering a planet’s atmosphere. Another quarter of an hour after that, and the ship jolted to a stop, and the vibration of its engines died.
Minutes later, the chamber portal clicked, then slid open. The guards ordered them to get unfastened and file out. As each captive emerged from the chamber, the guards clapped steel shackles about their ankles and wrists. A steel band, too, they wrapped around the captives’ necks. The bands all had loops, through which they threaded chains, connecting one captive to the next. Where one captive went, all the others must follow.
Skylar was chained with Endrick in front of him, and Wessin behind.
Prodding the chain of captives, the smugglers herded them toward the main hatch of the ship. Despite his captivity and the insufferable ring about his neck, he couldn’t help but feel some anticipation to get off the shuttle, to breathe fresh air, to see the infamous head planet of his enemies.