by Leslie Chase
Ssarl beamed out at the crowd. Probably he was trying to look like a good deal, but instead he looked desperate. No one in the crowd spoke.
“A steal at seventy-five,” the auctioneer tried, and someone else booed.
“You waste our time,” the gold woman said. “The human is worth our time, move on to her. Then we’ll see about buying sliven, if there’s any interest.”
The auctioneer looked pained, but the crowd rumbled agreement. He looked to the guards beside me, and they shrugged and nodded. Resigned, Ssarl stepped back to make space for me.
Now I really was the focus of the entire room, and I didn’t know how to deal with that. What I wanted to do was run and hide, but that wasn’t an option — the crocodile-man behind me made that clear.
“She has been brought from an uncontacted world just for your pleasure, ladies and gentlemen. Look at her, a human without Imperial citizenship or protection.”
Whatever that was, I wished I had it. The crowd surged forward, dozens of aliens looking up at me, and I shrank away.
“You can turn her to whatever use you wish,” the auctioneer continued with a leer. “Who here hasn’t suffered at the hands of the Empire? What will you offer for a chance to own a human and make her pay? And she will doubtless be a popular item with your clients. Perhaps even amongst the Imperials themselves? You cannot fail to make a profit if you win her — and the bidding starts at a mere thousand bezziks.”
It seemed I was ten times as valuable as Ssarl, and I half-wished I’d paid attention to the rest of the auction. Was I expensive or was he really cheap?
The auctioneer didn’t seem to have discouraged anyone with the price, anyway. Dozens of voices shouted at once, a wall of terrifying sound as everyone clamored to be first. Before the bidding got started in earnest, though, one of the robed figures spoke.
“How do we know that she is what you claim?” The alien voice sounded almost robotic, cold and devoid of emotion. “I do not wish to purchase a stolen citizen of the Empire by accident.”
The crowd died down at that, and the auctioneer looked pained. “We would never lie about our product, your worship.”
“Nevertheless, there has not been an opportunity to inspect the merchandise,” the robed figure said, unmoved. Others spoke up in agreement.
“If she has a patron who will come looking for her, I would know that before I bid,” the golden woman agreed.
“I’ve been stung before,” another said. “And the Empire doesn’t mess around these days. One of the Princesses is backing the ASP, after all.”
Perhaps sensing the crowd turning against him, the auctioneer held up his hands and gestured for quiet. “Please, gentlefolk, feel free to inspect the merchandise. This is a mudborn human from an uncontacted world, and you need fear no Imperial entanglements.”
I squealed in alarm as the crowd surged forward, the huge guard beside me growling a warning at them. Not, I knew, out of any concern for me — he didn’t want his property damaged before he got the chance to make his profit.
His warning didn’t stop them from poking and prodding at me. A dozen hands reached out for me, grabbing and pawing. I shied back as some kind of tentacle wrapped itself around my arm, and one of the furry aliens reared up to grip my chin, trying to look at my teeth.
Panic rose in me, and I pushed him away. Twisting back, I tried to get out of the press of aliens, only to run straight into a horrible spider-like thing. The alien had glistening purple skin, six spindly legs, and a beak that snapped shut inches from my face. Four beady eyes stared at me unblinking as it reached out to grab hold of my breast.
Okay, that’s enough. My anger outweighed my fear, and I reacted before I could think better of it. Knocking the offending hand off me, I punched the alien in the throat as hard as I could.
It was the only thing I could remember from a self-defense class I’d taken way back, but it seemed to do the job. The alien staggered back, purple face darkening as it clutched at its neck. Around me, the crowd fell silent.
“Back the fuck off,” I shouted as I spun to face the rest of them. And, to my surprise, they did. I stood in the center of a small circle of staring slavers, and for just a moment I had a flicker of hope.
Then one of the crocodile-men raised a remote control toward me and pressed a button. Agony shot through me, my whole body convulsing in pain as he snarled something at me. I couldn’t hear the words over the sound of my own scream.
I dropped to the floor, shaking helplessly until he released the button. Gasping for breath, I heard arguing voices.
“It struck me,” an outraged, high-pitched voice said. “You all saw! Unacceptable.”
“The slave will be punished for that,” the guard rumbled. “Of course she will.”
“Not enough. I demand her as recompense for my suffering.”
Others booed that suggestion, and I could only be glad. Whatever the punishment would be, I doubted it would compare with what that creature would do to me given the chance.
“The rules of the house are clear,” the auctioneer said, his trained and powerful voice cutting through the hubbub. “A slave who assaults a free person will be punished publicly for the education of all others. The injured party may administer the punishment if they choose. That does not give you any special claim on her, though of course you may lodge a complaint against her owner.”
The spider-alien hissed and clicked in triumph. Leaning over me, the guard bared his horrible array of teeth and grabbed me by the throat.
“You will regret that,” he whispered in a threatening growl. “And if this punishment damages you too much to sell, I’ll make you regret it even more.”
Before I could even think of answering, he lifted me by the throat one-handed. Choking, I dangled from his grip and whimpered in pain as he carried me to the center of the stage.
Bright light struck me and when he let me go, I found myself suspended in the air, helpless. I tried to move, but the light held me still. All I could manage was to squirm a little, and that just amused the audience.
The whole crowd watched as the spider-thing scuttled forward, looking up at me and narrowing its four eyes. It unclipped a whip from its belt, cracking it in the air next to me.
I couldn’t even flinch away. The light held me still, helpless, vulnerable. Pulse racing, I felt sweat gather on my forehead as I tried to move, to speak, to do anything. Nope. Nothing worked. I shook a little in the air, that was all.
“You pay for your insolence,” the creature said, snapping its beak at me in some kind of vicious laugh. “No slave hurts me, no. You pay.”
I wish I’d hit you harder. The words wouldn’t come out of my frozen mouth, but I tried to meet its eyes and let it know what I thought of it anyway. Maybe that worked: it froze for just a second and then hissed again. It touched a stud on the handle of the whip and the whip cracked with energy, steam rising where it rested on bare ice.
I swallowed. Way to go, Emma. You’ve made the monster mad. Great. I tried to brace myself for the pain, knowing it would be more than I could handle.
The creature’s arm snapped forward, and I tried futilely to duck. But the pain never came.
The whip didn’t strike.
Standing behind the spider-creature stood the scarred alien I’d seen before. His red hand held the whip, and with contemptuous ease he yanked it out of the spider’s grip.
6
Athazar
The whip burned in my hand, pain filling my senses. I didn’t care. Meeting the four-eyed gaze of the verkesh, I slowly and deliberately reeled the whip in before switching it off.
“You will not harm her,” I said, cold and hard as I could. It was a tone that rarely met resistance, and never from scum like the verkesh slaver in front of me.
He scuttled back, looking left and right. On his own he was unwilling to face me. Wise of him. The verkesh were scavengers, not warriors, and if he pushed me too far, I’d snap his neck.
“It is th
e law of this house,” the auctioneer said, trying to keep control of the situation. “She struck him, he has the right to punish her. And the other slaves must see the consequences of raising their hands against a free person.”
I looked up at him, my eyes narrowing, but he was made of sterner stuff than the verkesh. He’d have to be, running a place like this — if he backed down easily, his clients would walk all over him. He had to keep control of the room, no matter what.
If I was going to convince him, I would need an argument that others here would side with. Unfortunately, I hadn’t taken the time to come up with one. I said the first thing that came into my head.
“I do not wish to buy damaged goods,” I told the auctioneer. “The human will be worth much more unmarked.”
“There is a principle at stake, though,” he replied, and the verkesh stamped his feet in agreement. Drawing courage from the fact that the house was on his side, the creature hissed at me.
“And I have rights,” he said. “Lawful rights!”
So concerned about your rights at an illegal slave auction, I thought. But I could hardly say that. As it was, I knew I had support from others in the crowd. While some would enjoy seeing the human punished, those who actually wanted to buy her didn’t want damaged goods.
The human shivered, held motionless in the air, her eyes fixed on the whip. I could feel her fear, her anger, and I remembered my own feelings on the day of my sale. Not so different from hers, and if I could stop her from suffering as I had, I would.
My scars itched, and I threw down the whip on the icy floor. I didn’t know how I’d keep her safe, but I knew that I had no choice.
The auctioneer looked from me to the verkesh and back. “A compromise. The agonizer implant leaves no scars, no marks — let her suffer that rather than the whip.”
My teeth ground together, and I took a deep breath. Few slavers were willing to go to the trouble and expense of implanting agonizers, but those who did were amongst the worst. I knew them all too well from my time as a slave and I wouldn’t allow the human to suffer as I had.
The scar on the back of my neck prickled at the memory of the surgery to disable my own implant. Trying to control my anger I shook my head.
“I have a simpler idea,” I said, trying to find a way to keep her unhurt. “Let the winner decide. We bid, and if her new owner wants to see her punished, then it’s no business of mine. Me, I like my slaves feisty, and I don’t want all the spirit knocked out of this one before I claim her.”
That seemed to meet with some approval from the crowd, and I felt dirty for it. But if it worked, it worked. For a moment I thought it might.
“That isn’t how the code works,” the auctioneer insisted. “Our honorable client has been attacked and has his rights. Even if the house was willing to bend, I cannot allow one of our guests to be insulted this way.”
Others nodded, and I couldn’t think of a good counter. My instinct was to kill the verkesh, and then as many of the others as I could before they took me down. That wouldn’t achieve anything though — against this many foes I had little chance of victory. Even if I won the fight, I couldn’t hope to get off the station alive.
The human female would still be a slave, she’d be punished, and I’d be dead. Not an outcome I could tolerate. I had to find a better answer.
“Fine. What will it take to salve your honor, verkesh?” I snarled the question, stepping towards him fast enough to make him scuttle back. He clacked his beak shut, confused, and I continued. “How much to buy your vengeance rights from you? A hundred bezzik?”
He gestured quickly, and I knew I had him. The man was cruel but greedy… and if he intended to win the human, it cost him nothing. He’d still have his chance to hurt her after he took possession.
I’ll just have to make sure that doesn’t happen, I thought. Which meant… damn it. I was going to have to bid on a slave if I wanted to keep her from him.
“If that’s settled,” the auctioneer said, looking peevish, “then we will continue with the bids. Yes?”
Everyone nodded, and the auction resumed. The human still hung in the tractor beam, held in place and helpless as the slavers made their opening bids. I made my own, just to show I was involved, and then let them carry on. No need to be part of the frenzy.
Under the cover of the bidding, I pulled out my communicator and called the Shadow Hunter.
“What trouble have you gotten into now?” the AI asked as soon as I connected.
“Shut up and tell me how much money I have access to right now,” I told it. “Stuff I can spend without tying myself to the ASP, anyway.”
“Why do you want to—never mind,” it replied. “Liquid assets on hand are seven thousand three hundred and twelve bezzik.”
I growled unhappily. “That little?”
“There is considerably more available backed by ASP accounts, if needed,” the AI said. “Given time I could route some of that untraceably.”
“How much time?”
A brief pause. “Twenty-seven hours minimum. We are far enough out from any reputable banking network that light speed delay is an issue.”
I cursed under my breath. The bidding was already over three thousand. I put in a bid of three and a half and was immediately outbid by the golden-skinned woman next to me. Many of the bidders had dropped out, but enough were still in that the auction was nowhere near over.
“What non-liquid assets could I sell in a hurry?” I asked.
“The missiles could fetch around a thousand each,” the AI replied dubiously. “After that we’d be looking at your personal possessions, and those wouldn’t be worth much.”
I growled at that. Giving up the missiles would render my little ship unable to hold its own against any serious enemy in a fight…
But then, I wasn’t going to get into a fight. At least, that wasn’t the plan. So the option was on the table.
“What else?”
A moment of silence. “That’s everything, unless you sell me.”
The AI sounded almost scared of that, and I couldn’t blame it. “Don’t worry, you’re safe. I wouldn’t sell anyone to these people, not even an AI.”
That was that then. Seven thousand bezzik plus the missiles would have to be enough.
Again, I wondered why I was so determined to save this one slave. She was only one human, and I had my reasons to hate humans anyway. I knew it wasn’t fair to blame this one for the crimes other humans had committed, but still — I could have bought several of the other slaves with this much money.
I could tell myself it was because she’d be treated worse than the others, but that wasn’t it. Not really. Something inside me wanted her, and only her.
“Five thousand,” I called out. The feriden I’d spoken with earlier looked at me sadly and dropped out of the bidding. That left the gold-skin and the verkesh.
“Six,” the woman said airily, as though such a figure was beneath her notice. Trying to bluff us out, I hoped — if her pockets were that deep, I stood no chance.
But perhaps she was vulnerable to the same tactics she was using?
“Seven thousand,” I said easily, as though that wasn’t all the money I had. She looked at me, eyes hardening, and I knew I’d made an enemy.
I didn’t care, as long as it was an enemy who dropped out of the bidding. Holding her gaze, I smiled and bowed slightly. She cursed and stormed off, gathering her cloak around her.
The verkesh clacked his beak and looked at me. At the floating human. Back at me. I tried to ignore him and hoped that the price was too high for his revenge.
“Ten thousand,” he blurted out, stamping his forefeet. Damn.
Glaring across at him, I tried to take his measure. It wasn’t easy — the verkesh’s immobile face told me nothing. His restless shifting from side to side showed that he was in the grip of strong emotions, but just how far he’d go to satisfy them I didn’t know.
Nor how much money he had to put behind t
hem, for that matter. Was he all in? Or did he have more reserves to spend on his anger?
Doesn’t matter. His eyes bored into me, and I was sure of one thing. If he got his hands on the human, what happened to her wouldn’t be pretty.
And I wouldn’t allow that. Seeing her had awoken a part of my soul I’d thought dead forever, the mating urge of my people. Nothing would keep me from her.
“I bid seven thousand,” I said again, pausing a moment. “Seven thousand plus four ravager missiles.”
That caused a flutter of excitement in the crowd. At a thousand bezziks each the ravagers weren’t that expensive, but they signaled a change in the auction. That got everyone’s attention.
“Cash only,” the verkesh snapped, but the auctioneer held up a long-fingered hand.
“Assuming the missiles are on hand, we will take them. Valued at eight hundred each.”
I nodded, hiding the flash of anger that washed through me at that. It was a bargain price, but they didn’t have to accept them at all… and it was enough to put me ahead of the scavenger’s bid, if barely.
He scuttled forward, then back. Agitated noises came from his beak, but no words.
I risked a look at the human we were bidding for. She hung in the tractor beam, suspended and paralyzed, her eyes darting around the room. My heart ached for her, and I tried to meet her gaze. When she finally looked my way I smiled, doing my best to make it a reassuring expression.
Her eyes narrowed in a suspicious glare and I winced. It didn’t offend me that she was suspicious — that was just sensible, in her position. Still, it hurt. The human had every reason to fear me, but more than anything I wanted her to know I would look after her.
If only there was a way I could tell her, show her, that she’d be safe with me. Some sign I could give that I was on her side. That will have to wait until we can talk, I thought. The auctioneer raised his gavel slowly, and my heart hammered with anticipation.