Shalia's Diary Omnibus

by Tracy St. John

  I arched an eyebrow at him. “What if it is Earther men I desire? What if I wish to avenge the abuses I suffered on Earth by having some of those to entertain myself with? Can you give me influence over them? Can I command their collars as you do?”

  I was sure that Finiuld would become suspicious as I dug for information. However, he was either too drunk or too far gone in Shalia-worship (or a combination of the two), to be as wary as he should have. The Little Creep practically danced in his excitement to please me.

  “Oh yes, Shalia, I can give you that power! All it takes is to issue a voice command to the controls, and you’ll be their mistress. It is so simple. I could even do it now and put Oses under your command.”

  Finiuld’s gaze moved to the left. He took a step in that direction, then stopped short. Concern crossed his features before he offered me a smile that was probably meant to be endearing. With that face and those tombstone teeth, he couldn’t pull it off.

  “I’ll demonstrate the power I can give you by putting Oses under your domination. I’ll do that later after I send you back to him.”

  My heart beat fast with excitement. I did my best to not show the surge of hope. “Why not now?” I pressed.

  “Now is not a good time.” Finiuld’s gaze moved about his quarters as he avoided my eyes. “I want to talk instead. I wish to know all about you, Shalia. Tell me how you plan to put those Earther brutes in their proper place.”

  He crawled up his seat again, barely able to climb on the damned mushroom even with four arms and suction-cup fingers. Watching his drunken attempts to sit down, I was tempted to help. Does a goddess do such a thing? I decided the answer was probably no, especially since touching the Little Creep would set off my collar. It was painful to watch Finiuld try to gain his chair, but I kept my aura of superiority and let him figure it out.

  He finally did, though he listed quite heavily on his perch. I hoped I would get lucky and he’d fall over and crack his skull. Since when am I lucky?

  “Please, sit,” he invited between deep pulls on his bottle. He waved at the little bed.

  I accepted, pretending graciousness. I did my best to be the superior creature Finiuld wanted me to be, to keep him on my side. I had an idea, but to prove it and pull off what I hoped to, I needed him complacent. Being queenly or goddess-y was harder than it looked. If Finiuld hadn’t been so drunk, he would have seen through the attempt.

  With his prodding, I talked about my ‘revenge’ on Earther men. I pretended great delight as I devised humiliations for my proposed harem. Finiuld added his suggestions, moving more into the territory of torture. That bastard was as vicious as he was small. More than once his proposals nauseated me, but I pretended approval. When I applauded his notions, he got happier than ever and drank even more in celebration.

  We’d plotted for what I reckoned to be nearly an hour before the little shit passed out. I had begun to fear alcohol wouldn’t have that effect on an Ofetuchan, because it took forever. His glazed eyes had been at half-mast for almost the entire conversation, and his words slurred until I couldn’t quite understand him, and still he wouldn’t lose consciousness.

  I’d all but given up when Finiuld dropped his third bottle and tumbled off the seat. He landed heavily on the floor and began snoring fit to knock the walls down.

  “Finiuld?” I called, hardly daring to believe he’d drunk himself into a stupor. When he continued to snore, I yelled his name instead. Even when I screamed in his ear, the Little Creep slept on.

  I was free to explore now. I went directly to the area Finiuld had started towards when he talked about giving me command over Oses’s collar.

  In that area was what resembled a silver desk with drawers, supported by stumpy, thick legs. It came only to my knees, which made sense given how short Finiuld was. I eyed the wall behind it and my heart sank. If there was a control room on the other side of the wall, I couldn’t get to it without Finiuld’s phase device. He wore it on his belt and touching him would set off the torture command on my collar.

  I’d have to try, though it would never work. What else could I do?

  Then it occurred to me that Finiuld shouldn’t have been worried about dealing with the controls in my presence if indeed they were out of reach behind the wall. It should have been no big deal for him to phase himself, walk out of this space and into the next, issue the command, and return. Yet he’d balked at doing so.

  That meant the collar mechanisms were there in his quarters.

  I eyed the desk again. It was a strange piece of furniture, given how trays and table tops floated without the necessity of legs to hold them aloft. Did I dare to hope that meant the computer that ran the imprisoned menagerie’s collars was in here? Perhaps whatever configuration that made up the machine required a sturdier container.

  The surface of the desk was bare. There were no decorations, no piece of equipment on its mirrorlike surface. I tried to open the drawers, but they were stubbornly stuck...or locked. If the controls were in there, I couldn’t access them.

  I considered the desk further. Perhaps it wasn’t where the controls were at all. But this was definitely where Finiuld had glanced when he spoke of giving me the ability to order others. All it would take was a voice command, he’d said...

  With a flash of inspiration, I spoke. “Access controls.”

  The desk transformed. The surface shimmered, and I stared at a host of blinking lights, sliding levers, and buttons. The drawers slid out, showing more lights and buttons and slots evidently made for plugging in other machines or drives.

  Were all the ship’s mechanisms here, those that flew it and kept it phased so nobody could see it? Or was this just for the collars? I had no way of knowing.

  I looked back at Finiuld, still passed out cold on the floor. My head was in chaos, trying to determine my next move.

  First, I needed to know if I could turn my collar off. That meant finding out if the damned thing was activated. Which meant I’d have to touch Finiuld and probably put myself in hell for several seconds.

  My stomach churned, but I couldn’t see any way around this. No doubt the collar was on, but if I was to discover the means to turn it off, I had to be sure of the situation.

  “Be strong, Shalia,” I breathed. “You’ll survive it.”

  I would also piss myself from the pain. There was nothing resembling a toilet in Finiuld’s room, so I availed myself of his unused glass. I figured it couldn’t be worse than that brown glop he drank. Maybe he wouldn’t consider the cup ruined if I couldn’t escape.

  Bladder empty, I was as prepared as I was going to be. Before I could talk myself out of doing it, I stepped over to the Little Creep. I touched the tip of my finger to his shoulder.

  Riotous pain exploded. It seemed to go on forever, and I had the awful thought that I’d somehow stayed in contact with the bastard.

  It was only a few seconds though. When you’re in that amount of pain, it feels like a lot longer. When it was over, I found myself on the floor about a foot apart from my slumbering captor.

  The first part was done. I hoped it would be the last time I experienced the horror of that torment. I shakily climbed to my feet and staggered to the control desk.

  “Computer, turn off the collar worn by Earther Shalia Monroe.”

  There was no sound to acknowledge anything had been done. Lights continued to blink in seemingly random patterns. I had no means of knowing if it had obeyed me.

  Well, one way. Fuck, was I really doing this again? I had no choice.

  My eyes filled with tears as I readied to touch Finiuld again. I did not want to do this. I did not. But it was the only method to find out if I was free.

  “I fucking hate you,” I whispered to the unconscious Ofetuchan. “I wish you’d just curl up and die.”

  With that, I extended my shaking finger once more. I touched his shoulder, feeling the smooth, plastic-y surface of his fuchsia shirt. Nothing else.

  No pain.

&
nbsp; Hardly daring to hope, I grabbed Finiuld’s shoulder. He muttered in his sleep and re-commenced snoring. His tiny arm felt incredibly fragile. I thought about choking the life out of him.

  I stepped back and stared at my hand, as if to accuse it of lying to me. Holy shit, I was free. My collar no longer worked.

  My heart was drumming so fast that I was certain it would fly out of my chest. A million ideas went through my head in a single second: turn off all the collars. Kill Finiuld. Run to Oses. Free the rest of the prisoners. Fly the ship to our vessel, the Pussy ‘Porter.

  A small voice in my head counseled caution, however. Take your time, it urged. Think this through. Don’t squander this opportunity. It might be the only chance you get.

  For once, I listened to that mote of reason. After all, Finiuld was down for the count here. I had to make sure we could all be freed. I would not be stupid, not now, not when so many lives counted on it.

  First things first. I needed to destroy the biggest threat to me and all the rest. I had to kill Finiuld.

  I stared down at him. Damn it, he was so small and helpless. His only power over me had been through the collar and what he could do to Oses. He was utterly at my mercy.

  I looked around for some kind of weapon. There was nothing that resembled a blaster or a knife. I saw no stabbing or shooting implements at all. Nothing in the room seemed heavy enough to bash him with either. I had no quick and simple approach to finish this. I would have to go hands-on.

  I gazed down at Finiuld again. I hated him. I had killed before, killed those who had threatened me. It had been awful taking the lives of others on Earth, and I still had nightmares about it. Those men’s faces haunted me, and it didn’t matter that they had left me no choice but to do it.

  The Tragooms I’d been ready to kill on the transport wouldn’t have been so bad. They seemed more animal than sentient, rabid dogs that had to be put down for the protection of all. Maybe killing Finiuld would be like that. God knows, I despised him enough.

  Yet I would be killing a helpless man. Could I be that cold? That brutal?

  I thought about Oses. I considered my unborn child and what it would mean to have it caught here with Finiuld. I knew I could do it then. It would haunt me for the rest of my days, but I could do it.

  I squatted down on the floor next to him. I rolled him over. I decided I would sit on him, pinning his arms and keeping him down while I strangled him. I hoped he would not wake for it. If fate was kind, he would slip away unaware of his life leaving him. I may have hated him, but I had an aversion to him suffering.

  As I straddled his body on my knees, arranging him so he couldn’t fight if he did wake, I noted the little device on his belt. It was the phase converter, the tool that allowed Finiuld and anyone he was in contact with to pass through solid objects.

  I suddenly saw a means out of the horrible duty I had to perform. I could go and fetch Oses. I could let him kill Finiuld instead.

  I was so relieved by the idea that I didn’t consider at first how monumentally stupid it was. It was cowardly, but I am not a killer. I can do it when I have to, but if I can find a way out of it, I will. This was such a situation. It only occurred to me later that I didn’t know how to return to the containment where Oses was. I could have wandered lost for hours. Meanwhile, Finiuld could have recovered consciousness, discovered I was loose, and regained control of our collars. Then there would have been real hell to pay.

  All I cared about right then was that I could avoid murdering someone in cold blood.

  I grabbed the phase device off Finiuld’s belt. I needed to figure out how it worked so I could leave. Then I would turn off all the collars and find Oses.

  I examined it. It really did resemble a kazoo, except there were no openings. Smooth and gold, it also possessed no switches or buttons, at least none that I could see.

  I’d never heard Finiuld say a word to activate it either. Perhaps it was enough to simply be contact with it? Maybe Finiuld touched it with bare skin, such as his fingers, when he wanted to phase.

  I stepped to a nearby wall, clutching the phase device in my hand. If it worked, I should be able to walk through. I went for it.

  Thank goodness I’d been careful in my approach, because the wall was as solid as ever. I bumped into it gently but could not go through.

  Okay, so something was required to activate it. I mused over the gadget, turning it over and over in my hands.

  “Activate phase.” I hoped that would somehow win me what I wanted. But no, when I put my hand against the wall, it wouldn’t let me through.

  Finiuld never spoke to command his phase. Maybe one simply thought at it? I gave that a try and still came up empty.

  I puzzled over it for what seemed ages. I tried every idea no matter how crazy to make the converter work, becoming more and more frustrated every second. Here was the means for escape, and I couldn’t use it! No matter what I did or said, I couldn’t phase and I couldn’t get out. I was stuck in Finiuld’s bedroom.

  As a couple of hours slipped by and I couldn’t solve the riddle of my escape, I started to panic. Eventually, I would have to deal with Finiuld because he wouldn’t stay unconscious forever. Killing him was out of the question as long as I couldn’t escape the room. Being stuck in there with his rotting corpse and dying of starvation was not on my agenda.

  I had an opportunity to do something. What?

  I eyed the collar device. If I turned off all the prisoners’ collars, Finiuld was bound to notice. At the very least, I could turn off Oses’s. No, Finiuld had said he’d give me rule over Oses. So maybe he’d be able to read the funny blinking lights and know that both our collars were off. Even if he saw nothing amiss, he’d be re-activating the Nobek’s controls when he made me able to command him.

  I was in a sticky place. It got stickier as Finiuld began to shift and mutter in his sleep. I guess Ofetuchans threw off the effects of drunkenness faster than we Earthers do. It became apparent after a few minutes of this that he would be waking soon.

  What was I to do? I could try to overcome the Little Creep physically and make him turn on the phase gadget so I could move through the ship. The trouble was, he could turn my collar on with just a voice command. There was also no guarantee I could compel him to use the phase tool on my behalf or teach me how to use it myself.

  With a sick feeling in my stomach, I realized my only hope was to keep my own collar turned off and pray Finiuld didn’t catch on. By pretending it worked, I could hope to somehow catch the Little Creep off guard soon and conjure an escape for me, Oses, and everyone else. It seemed stupid to not force something to happen then and there, but I am no tactician. I don’t fight battles or wars or even crazy alien leprechauns. Figuring out how to break free of this mess I was in was so far out of my realm of knowledge. All I did recognize for sure was that I couldn’t afford to fuck up the tiny bit of an advantage I had gained. To implement it effectively, I needed Oses, who was trained to get out of tight and dangerous spots. It was the best I could do.

  I told the gizmo, “Disappear.” I had no idea what the correct command would be to make it appear to be a desk again, but my order seemed to suffice. It reverted to a blameless bit of furniture, no blinking lights to be seen.

  Finiuld stirred in earnest, and it was then that I realized I held the phase gadget in my hand. An electric pulse of terror coursed through my body. If I was caught with it or trying to put it on him, he’d realize I’d switched the collar off.

  I crouched beside the Little Creep. My shaking hands acted dumb as I tried to re-attach his phase thing-y to his belt. I must have tried to adhere it three different times. All the while, Finiuld muttered louder and louder, shifting about. His eyelids fluttered. At last the controller stuck, and I sprang back. My ass fairly bounced on Finiuld’s bed as I sat down. I tried to arrange myself to seem as if I’d been lounging bored the whole time he’d been crashed out.

  He sat up and blinked at me. “What – what happened
?”

  Hoping my booming heart wouldn’t tear through my chest, I scowled at him. “You passed out. You left me here with nothing to do but pace the room and wait for you to come to your senses, you jerk. By the way, I pissed in your drinking cup. Next time, show me where the toilet facility is or I’ll shit in the middle of your bed.”

  Finiuld stared at me for a moment. Then his attention strayed to the collar control panel.

  I used bravado to its fullest extent in that moment. I felt far from the dominant female he insisted I was, but I played the bitch for all I was worth. I didn’t want him to check to see if I’d figured out how to deactivate my collar.

  I glared at him. “I am not pleased, Finiuld. You have made me wait uncomfortably while you slept off your moment of weakness. I am sick of the sight of you. Take me to Oses now. At least he understands how to treat a woman.”

  Finiuld stood, wincing and grabbing at his red-tufted head as he did so. “I am sorry, Shalia. I don’t know what got into me. The last thing I wanted to do was make you unhappy.”