Shards [Book Two]

by Peter W Prellwitz

  “Ellen? Madame? Are ... are you all right?"

  She did not respond. I pushed at her shoulder lightly, not wishing to anger her, but still she seemed unaware. Using my free hand and my flexible body, I half pushed and half squirmed out from underneath her.

  WHAT ... WHAT HAS HAPPENED?

  I COULD SEE ELLEN AS MISS DECHANT TURNED HER OVER. ELLEN SEEMED VERY RIGID. AND HER EYES. THEY WERE STARING, BUT NOT BLANK. SOMETHING WAS WRONG. WHAT IS WRONG WITH ELLEN, MISS DECHANT?

  “Ellen appears to have sharded,” I said to no one in particular. “I've seen this before, but only once, and not this intense. The poor woman

  POOR WOMAN? DON'T YOU KNOW WHAT SHE INTENDED TO DO TO US?

  must have been something very horrible at one time to be in such a state.” I passed my hand in front of her eyes, but she was not seeing with them. Her mouth was frozen wide open and she was breathing with a harsh rasp. I did not know what to do, but I waited a few minutes to see if I might think of something, or to see if the condition might pass. Ellen was misusing me, nor did she have any concern for me, but she was a person who had laid claim to me, so I owed it to her to at least stay a small while.

  After twenty minutes, though, she did not seem to be any better. Nor any worse. She was breathing, and her heartbeat continued, so the condition did not seem to be immediately fatal, which was unusual.

  HUH?

  I felt my obligation to her was finished, and decided it was time to leave. I considered changing back into my original clothes, then did not. Ellen seemed to think they would identify me as an outsider, and if the other girl who shared this body with me was the soulner, I needed to protect her while she was helpless. Professor LeClaire had speculated that the time would come when the original persona could be revived in ripes. Three hundred and fifty years seemed a long enough time to accomplish that, so it was possible that I was not a shard of another ripe but a shard of my soulner. In time, if she was our soul, she would return to control us, and I would fade again. But until then, she was my responsibility. So I kept on the worn dress that Ellen had given me.

  There seemed to be nothing more I could do for Ellen, so I straightened up her small living area, making sure the barley soup was covered and the bread carefully placed in a container. I then swept up and cleaned the dishes. Using her brush, I combed out my hair and put it up into a proper bun. Soft rich, dark hair! Mine had been nearly as nice in my day, but age had turned it gray and dry. I was overjoyed to have a chance to own such beautiful hair again. I found a small tray with numerous barrettes in them, and took several, counting them as payment against Ellen's unwanted advances.

  Finished, I took off my apron. I was tempted to keep it but felt that would not be right. I smoothed it out and hung it back on its nail and departed. Ellen had not moved at all in this time, but lay on the bed, as rigid as a dead person, though she was not.

  The sun was hot when I stepped clear of the building. It could not have been more than eight in the morning, yet the temperature was already becoming uncomfortable. I looked up and down the street, but saw only derelicts and vagabonds, none of whom would begin to know what to do with a maid. Nor would it be helpful to ask, for it was evident that the authorities here dealt with the population abruptly and harshly. I should have to find them myself.

  Since any direction was as good as another, I went south. There was a small street available to me for my walk. I strolled down the lane, taking my time, trying to understand my new surroundings and taking no small pleasure in my newly acquired youth. The spring was back in my step, replacing the steadier pace of my past few years. I had no regrets being older, but I very much appreciated the comment, “youth is wasted on the young". I wondered what my soulner thought of that statement.

  I THINK I WAS BEGINNING TO APPRECIATE IT, TOO. I ALSO BEGAN TO THINK THAT I VERY MUCH LIKED MISS DECHANT. SHE WAS A NO-NONSENSE WOMAN WHO REMINDED ME OF BETTY, THE WOMAN WHO HAD CONDUCTED MY IHAD TWO YEARS AGO. COMPETENT, INTELLIGENT, SHE KEPT A COOL HEAD UNDER DIFFICULT CIRCUMSTANCES AND DEALT WITH ADVERSITY AS IT HAPPENED. I WAS NOT AT ALL PLEASED WITH HER EASY COMPLIANCE TO ABUSE—IT WAS AFTER ALL MY BODY—BUT FROM HER THOUGHTS I COULD EASILY UNDERSTAND WHY SHE DID WHAT SHE DID.

  I had walked about a kilometer, crossing several streets, when I came upon a broad avenue going east and west. There seemed to be a faint sheen off to the east, but nothing else. To the west, however, I could see a large compound, fenced, with a guard on duty. It was nearly another kilometer away, but it was my best choice. More accurately, it was my only choice, for the street I was on also ended here, with the compound fence parallel the far side of the road and stretching all the way to where I was and further. I crossed the road—after three centuries, they still used glass—and walked to the guard. There was no traffic.

  He saw me approaching, but made no move to come to me. He did step into a small guardhouse for a few moments, then come back out, watching me. I kept my hands out in plain sight and smiled slightly when I came up to him. He took a position of aggression.

  PLEASE, MISS DECHANT! PLEASE DON'T DO THIS! YOU DON'T KNOW WHAT THESE PEOPLE ARE LIKE!

  I REALIZED MY PLEADING WAS USELESS. NOT ONLY COULD SHE NOT HEAR ME, SHE DID KNOW WHAT THESE PEOPLE WERE LIKE, AND WAS GIVING HERSELF OVER TO THEM ANYWAY.

  “Who are you and what business do you have here?” he demanded. His rifle looked different from any I had seen and gave off a high pitched tone.

  I carefully placed my hands to my dress and gave him a deep curtsy. Remembering to speak English, I replied, “I beg your pardon, officer, but I am looking for another officer by the name of Deiley. I am Professor Philip LeClaire's former house maid, and I wish to offer my labors to M'sieur Deiley.” I kept my eyes properly lowered, allowing him the superior position.

  He seemed calmed by my words and actions, for he spoke in a softer tone.

  “Look ma'am. You seem like a nice young girl. Believe me, you'd be real smart if you'd just turn around and walk that pretty little butt of yours back into town. I called over a squad, just in case you were a hostile, and they're going to be here in a minute. I'm inclined to live and let live, but a couple of them ain't. You're not going to see Major Deiley anyway. He's too big for you to even get close to."

  “But, sir!” I begged, becoming a little desperate. “You do not understand! He was with me only this morning! See?” I showed him my neck where he had choked me. He looked and seem to get a little pale.

  “And you want to see him after he did that?” He shook his head in wonder. “I'll never understand Shards."

  “And I hope you never do, m'sieur. It is not the best life. But I am not a shard, not in the way that it appears to have become common. I am a ripe, a woman whose mind has been imprinted with the need to serve and tend house. I cook, sew, clean, manage simple household finances, and can even entertain after a fashion. That is the way the Professor had me made, and that is all I want to be. But I have been told that was over three centuries ago, and that France no longer exists. So I turn to this Deiley as a new master. I know of no one else."

  He looked almost distressed. “Look, miss ... miss..."

  “Miss DeChant."

  “Miss DeChant. You don't want to get caught up in here. Not with us. I'll tell you what—"

  “Hey, Jordon, what's the big emergency?"

  I started and turned. There was a vehicle floating on air directly behind me, with four large men in it. I had not heard it approach.

  “Please, officers! I must see Major Deiley! Will you take me to him?"

  “And why would you like to see him?” the first man spoke as he jumped out of the floating vehicle.

  “My name is Miss DeChant,” I started, trying to keep my voice steady. “And I am a housekeeper looking for a new..."

  “A housekeeper?” He laughed. “Is that what they call it now?” He looked at me with suspicion in his eyes. “And who is your employer now?"

  “I have no employer, m'sieur. He died over three hundred y
ears—"

  “No!” interrupted the man I had been speaking to, the one they called Jordon. “It's okay, guys. False alarm! She just got a little side tracked. I was about to call Ginny and have her hov the girl back to town. It's okay."

  The man from the craft interrupted him, his eyes taking on a disquieting gleam.

  “Three hundred years, eh? Then you would be a ripe, wouldn't you, Miss DeChant?"

  “Oui, I—I mean, yes. That is correct."

  “C'mon guys, leave her alone. She's new here, and a little lost..."

  But they were not listening to him. Too late, I realized it was I who should have listened to him. Two men jumped out of the vehicle and grabbed me. I did not fight, of course, but I was scared. I had seen men watching me when I was young, and knew from the look in their eyes what they were thinking. These men had that same look.

  My safety came from Philip then, for none would cross him, not in those early days. Only Philip was dust, and these men had never heard of him. They pulled me into the vehicle roughly, ripping my dress at the shoulder. Giving shouts of victory, they started the vehicle toward the compound. I heard Jordon protesting loudly, but his voice grew fainter as we sped away.

  The ride to the compound was brief and harrowing. Men began pawing me, touching me where I did not wish to be touched. One pulled my undergarment off from under my dress and threw it away.

  “Please, sirs! This is not what I'm made to do! I'm a maid. A housekeeper! I don't know the first thing about this kind of service."

  NO ... NO ... THIS IS NOT HAPPENING...

  “Oh, don't worry, girl!” the leader said. “We'll teach you! We'll give you a crash course on ‘this kind of service'.” They all laughed mockingly at me. I struggled to sit up, but they held me down, gripping my arms painfully. I had made a terrible mistake.

  We came to a stop in front of a building and someone struck me, knocking me from the craft. I fell on my side, and stayed on my hands and knees. Drops of blood dripped from my mouth. I needed to do something to stop this. Perhaps if I, if I...

  I did not know what to do. I began to cry. But not for myself.

  One man, their leader, grabbed my hair and yanked me to my feet. He then pulled me into the building. It was a barracks of some type.

  The others were inside. The man who had me in his grip spun me around. Bending his head down, he kissed me forcefully on the lips. His arms came around me and I felt him tearing

  NO ... NO! I CAN'T BREATHE! MY FACE IS BURNING! I FEEL FILTHY! STOP!

  at my dress. It fell like a rag to my feet, leaving me naked save for my brassiere. The other men laughed and cheered as he pulled it off. He continued kissing me savagely, raking his filthy teeth over my lips. I could only stand there, numb with fear and shame that I had so failed my soulner. He stopped and looked at me for a moment, a wicked smile on his lips.

  “So, kid, tell me you don't like that!"

  “I do not care for myself, m'sieur. But I beg you, please, for the soul owner in my care, do not do this! Do not rape me! Surely there are many other girls who are better prepared to offer you love..."

  “It ain't love I'm looking for, girl. Help me out here, boys.” The other three came close to us. I felt their hands touching, striking, violating. He roughly licked the blood off my lips and pulled me to him. Oh, mademoiselle, I cried out to my soulner, Oh! I am so sorry! What have I done to you? Forgive me, please!

  He struck me with his fist, and I fell to the floor. He laughed at me and lowered his trousers. The others held me. He came down onto me and I screamed at the stab of agony as he raped me. Sorrow mixed with pain and failure washed over me. Mademoi..

  NO!! NO!! PLEASE!! STOP!! NOOOO!!!

  IT WAS ALL DARK AGAIN. I STRUGGLED OFF MY BACK AND STOOD UP. CRYING WITH ANGER AND DESPAIR AND TERROR, I STARTED RUNNING. SHAME AND HUMILIATION, WORSE THAN THE IHAD, FLOODED OVER ME. I COULD SMELL MY OWN, WELLING BLOOD AND IT TURNED MY STOMACH. I WAS DIRTY, DIRTY, DIRTY! I HEARD DERISIVE LAUGHTER FILLING MY EARS, PIERCING MY SOUL. TWISTING, FOREIGN PAIN FLOWED OUT FROM THE MIDDLE OF MY BODY, POLLUTING AND MAKING FILTHY ALL THAT IT TOUCHED. I RAN AND RAN AND RAN INTO THE DARKNESS. MY BREATH WAS COMING IN RAGGED GASPS, MY SCREAMING SO HOARSE AS TO BE RASPING. THE LAUGHTER HAD FADED AWAY, TURNING INTO A ROARING SOUND. THE TWISTING PAIN AT MY WAIST BECAME A STABBING PAIN, DRAINING THE ENERGY AND LIFE FROM MY BODY. I STUMBLED AND FELL. SOBBING, I CURLED UP TO PROTECT MYSELF, BUT NO MATTER HOW I COVERED MYSELF, HOW I TURNED AWAY, A VILE TOUCH WOULD DISCOVER A WEAKNESS AND ASSAIL ME. I BECAME TOO WEAK TO RESIST, AND SOMETHING PULLED MY ARMS AND LEGS OPEN, EXPOSING ME TO MY ATTACKERS. I MOANED AND BEGGED WEAKLY, BUT HAD ALREADY DESPAIRED AT THE FUTILITY OF IT. I COULD ONLY ESCAPE ONE WAY. I BURROWED DEEPER AND DEEPER INTO MY MIND, HIDING FROM THEM. IF I SHUT EVERYTHING OUT, THEY WOULD NOT FIND ME AND HURT ME MORE. SLOWLY, THE PAIN AND SHAME FADED. THEN ALL MY FEELINGS FADED. I DREW MYSELF UP AGAIN, FAR INSIDE MY MIND, AND WHIMPERED AS I SLIPPED INTO OBLIVION. SWEET, WARM, SAFE OBLIVION, WHERE NOTHING COULD HURT ME ANYMORE...

  * * * *

  Corporal Thadeus Jordon had few illusions left. He had been in NATech Infantry for ten months, but had aged as many years in that time. He'd joined of his own free will, thinking he could make a difference, that he could protect society. It was only three days into boot camp when he began to feel the indoctrination eating at his principles, hopes, and at his illusions. Now, disillusioned and hardened, he knew the day was approaching when he would be one of the men racing off in the hov, intent only on savaging the helpless girl who struggled in their midst.

  But that day wasn't today. What he saw made him sick, though not as sick as it once did. The girl said she had spoken to Major Deiley only hours ago. It seemed a reasonable assumption that he might still be interested in her for reasons that were none of Jordon's business. And should Major Deiley find out about the raping, he might be displeased. He tapped into the simple terminal in the guard hut and asked Protocol Routing to connect him. If he was wrong, then he, Jordon, would spend the rest of his life patrolling the asteroid belt. He'd best have something more to please Major Deiley. While he waited for the Major to come on line, he initiated a search of a Professor Philip LeClaire who had lived in France three centuries ago.

  * * * *

  THE SMELL OF ... OF ... JET FUEL.

  THROUGH MY COCOON OF APATHY AND WITHDRAWAL, I RECOGNIZED THE SMELL AS JET FUEL. I TRIED TO IGNORE IT, BUT THE BURNING SMELL PERSISTED. CURIOSITY, EVEN THROUGH THE LINGERING REMNANTS OF FEAR AND DISGUST AND LOATHING, SHARPENED MY MIND. WHY WOULD I BE SMELLING JET FUEL? ALL FOSSIL FUELS HAD BEEN BOTH EXHAUSTED AND DISCARDED CENTURIES AGO.

  MY EMOTIONS BEGAN RELAXING THEIR GRIP ON MY MIND, ALLOWING IT TO REACH OUT TO LOCATE THE SOURCE OF THE ODOR. I UNWRAPPED MY ARMS CAREFULLY, READY TO CURL UP AND WITHDRAW AT THE FIRST FOUL TOUCH. MY TERROR HAD BEEN SO GREAT THAT HAD I BEEN VIOLATED AGAIN AT THAT MOMENT, I WOULD HAVE BEEN LOST. BUT NOTHING TOUCHED ME, NOTHING VIOLATED ME. THE VILE SENSATIONS WERE GONE. I WAS BEING LEFT ALONE. OR I HAD COMPLETELY REMOVED MYSELF FROM MY BODY. I DID NOT WISH TO FIND OUT, FEARING THE AWARENESS WOULD RETURN.

  BUT I DID WANT TO FIND THE SOURCE OF THE SMELL. I STOOD UP, SWAYING AND NEARLY FALLING. STAGGERING AT FIRST, THEN GAINING ENOUGH STRENGTH TO STEADY MYSELF, I WALKED TOWARD THE ODOR.

  I WALKED FOR MANY MINUTES INTO THE DARKNESS. THE SMELL BECAME STRONGER THOUGH NOT OVERPOWERING. THE ROARING SOUND ALSO INTENSIFIED. FINALLY, WHEN MY WEAKNESS BEGAN TO COVER ME AGAIN, I SAW A LIGHT UP AHEAD. A LIGHT THAT SEEMED TO BE PEEKING OUT OF THE SPACES LEFT BY TWO ILL-FITTING DOORS. I STUMBLED TO THEM, HOPING TO FIND SOMEONE WHO COULD EXPLAIN ALL THIS TO ME. APPROACHING THE DOORS ON A STAGGERING HALF RUN, I PLUNGED AGAINST THEM AND THEY BURST OPEN, CAUSING ME TO FALL ONTO THE FLOOR.

  IT WAS VERY BRIGHT ON THE INSIDE AND I IMMEDIATELY UNDERSTOOD THE SOURCE THE FUEL SMELL, THOUGH THE ROARING ABRUPTLY STOPPED. I WAS IN AN OLD STYLE AIRPORT TERMINAL. IT WAS CIRCULAR AND HAD WINDOWS ALONG ALL THE SIDES EXCEPT AT THE TOP OF THE WAITING AREA, WHERE THERE WAS ANOTHER LARGE DOOR WITH A SIGN A
BOVE IT THAT SAID, “GATE” SITTING IN SEATS, AS THOUGH AWAITING THE ARRIVAL OF A FLIGHT, WERE TWO =WOMEN.

  ONE WAS OLDER, WITH GRAYING HAIR. SHE WAS STARING OFF, AS THOUGH UNAWARE OF ME. THE OTHER WAS VERY YOUNG AND VOLUPTUOUS. SHE HAD A PILE OF LONG BLOND HAIR AND DEEP BLUE EYES THAT WERE WATCHING ME. BOTH OF THEM WERE NAKED. LOOKING AT MYSELF, I SAW THAT I WAS NAKED AS WELL, BUT FELT NO DISCOMFORT. I CAREFULLY STOOD UP AND APPROACHED THE WOMEN.

  THE YOUNGER ONE STOOD UP AND SMILED, HOLDING HER HANDS BEHIND HER BACK. THE OLDER WOMAN CONTINUED TO IGNORE ME.

  I OPENED MY MOUTH TO SAY SOMETHING AND HEARD A CLICKING SOUND BEHIND ME. I SPUN AROUND, FEELING THE FEAR RISE UP. BUT NO ONE WAS THERE TO ATTACK ME. INSTEAD, THE WINDOWS HAD DISAPPEARED AND THE SPACE WAS NOW OCCUPIED BY SEVERAL BANKS OF COMPUTERS. THERE SEEMED TO BE FIVE DISTINCT MODELS, AND ALTHOUGH I WAS NOT CERTAIN OF THEIR FUNCTION, THEY SEEMED TO HAVE DIFFERENT ONES. I FELT A TOUCH ON MY SHOULDER AND JUMPED.

  IT WAS THE YOUNGER WOMAN. SHE WAS INCREDIBLY BEAUTIFUL. TALL, GRACEFUL, AND WELL-PROPORTIONED, SHE HAD A SOFT, LOVELY FACE AND SMOOTH SKIN. ONLY HER EYES SEEMED WRONG. DARK BLUE AND BRIGHT, THEIR SHINE SEEMED TO BETRAY A DEEP SADNESS. AND THEY WERE MISSING SOMETHING, A SPARK.

  “ARE YOU MY SOULNER?” SHE ASKED TENTATIVELY.

  “ME? I—I DON'T EVEN KNOW WHO YOU ARE, MISS.” I STAMMERED OUT. “WHAT IS A SOULNER?"

  “I DON'T KNOW. I'M SORRY, BUT I DON'T KNOW! I—I'M NOT VERY SMART. BUT I SAW YOU ONCE BEFORE, AND I WAS HOPING...” HER VOICE TRAILED OFF.

  “YOU SAY YOU SAW ME ONCE BEFORE? WHEN?"

  “WELL, I—I DON'T REMEMBER TOO WELL, BUT I WAS IN HERE FOR A LONG, LONG, TIME, AND THEN SUDDENLY, A LITTLE WHILE AGO, I WAS IN YOU.” SHE POINTED AT MY BODY AND INDICATED SOME OF MY FEATURES. “I REMEMBER LOOKING LIKE THAT FOR AWHILE. AND I REMEMBER BEING TREATED NICE BY SOME PEOPLE, EVEN THOUGH THEY DIDN'T KNOW ME AND SEEMED SAD OF WHAT I AM. THEN THEY WENT AWAY AND I WAS BACK IN HERE. DID I DO SOMETHING WRONG?"

  HER SPEECH WAS DIFFICULT TO FOLLOW, BUT HER MANNER TOLD ME EVERYTHING. THIS HAD BEEN THE PROSTITUTE THAT I HAD SHARDED INTO LAST WEEK. OR HAD IT BEEN A YEAR? I DIDN'T HAVE A SENSE OF THE TIME PASSAGE. THAT I KNEW WHO SHE WAS DIDN'T HELP. IT ONLY CONFUSED THINGS FURTHER. WHAT WAS GOING ON? I POINTED TO THE OLDER WOMAN.