Shenili: Chains of Fear, Book 1

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Shenili: Chains of Fear, Book 1 Page 11

by Jacey Jenson


  A dark shadow fell across him, blocking the floodlights. Gary looked up to find Keeper Delai watching him. Her gaze flicked over him, then moved to his eyes. He swallowed the sudden lump in his throat, and stood quickly. Head inclined, he studied the Keeper's sandals, noting absently that the left one needed repairs soon. His lips twitched into a wry grimace.

  Delai snapped her fingers. Gary looked up to see a slave boy about nine-years-old hand her the whip. He winced, jerked involuntarily, his eyes locked on the nine braided leather strands. Shards of jagged metal glinted in the folds of the braids.

  "You shall be Enforcer," said Delai. Gary took his gaze from the whip, looked at Delai. Her eyes glittered coldly. "Vadagz who do not perform satisfactorily are to be whipped. This is your duty in the games tonight."

  For a moment, Gary realized only that he wouldn't be forced to join the contests. Relief washed over him, then the meaning of her words filtered through his surprise. He gaped at her. "Me?"

  Keeper Delai laughed, seemed to enjoy his shock. "You!"

  Numbly, he stared at the whip she forced into his hand. Anger gathered, seethed through his mind. Denied too long, his rage was almost beyond control. Gary threw the whip to the sand. He glared at her, his hands placed belligerently on his hips. His hands curled, became white-knuckled fists.

  "No!" Still, he didn't dare strike her. Too many lasers were leveled on him.

  Keeper Delai stiffened. Her dark eyes narrowed with sudden fury. "You may change your mind," she offered, her tone deadly.

  Gary blinked at the offer. Insolence in every inch of his muscular body, he shook his head. "I won't do it!"

  "As you wish," she said. "Remove your tunic."

  He started to refuse, but the laser one of the sentinel jammed into his back convinced him. He unhooked the belt, dropped it, then yanked the tunic over his head. Flinging the sleeveless garment to the sand next to the whip, he returned her glare.

  "Come." Delai turned, walked to the center of the arena, to the whipping post. Embedded into the sand, the post had heavy iron rings set into the wood at varying heights.

  Gary watched her without moving. He was in for it. He knew it, but shook his head in refusal when she turned to look back at him. Delai lifted her hand in signal. Two sentinel grabbed Gary's arms from behind, shoved their lasers into his ribs. It was all Gary could do not to struggle and fight. He clenched his jaw, closed his eyes, tried to gain control before he got himself killed, if he hadn't already done so.

  The sentinel pulled him to a stop. Gary looked at Delai, unable to mask, or control, the fury that returned to his face. Regardless what she might do to him, he could not, would not, inflict the pain of the whip on his friends. I’ll die, first, he thought, then wondered if that was what Delai had in mind.

  Lips pressed into a straight line, Delai ordered Brezlah to send two vadagz to her from the group lined up at the entrance. Soon, Dennis and Juan approached. They glanced uncertainly at Gary, then at each other as they awaited Delai's orders.

  "Chain him to the highest ring!"

  Gary met their concerned gazes, read their reluctance to obey the Keeper in their eyes. He almost panicked. If they don’t . . .. As yet, he wasn't sure he, himself, wasn't condemned. He couldn't let his friends die with him. Gary purposefully tripped. Dennis caught him, helped him regain his balance. "Do it, Dennis," whispered Gary, too low for the Thali to hear. "Think of Denny Joe, and do it!"

  Thankfully, Gary saw the realization of their danger should any others openly rebel dawn in Dennis' eyes. Dennis barely nodded, then reached for the manacles by which Gary would be pulled to the top of the post. Roughly, as if afraid to let his feeling show, Dennis locked the manacles on Gary's wrists.

  Juan frowned. He hesitated a moment longer, then bent to help Dennis turn the rusty crank. As the chain raised Gary jerkily into the air, Gary tried to ignore the clink, rattle, clank of metal on metal, the loud chink of the locking mechanism. Face to the post, his feet swinging above the sand, Gary strove to empty his mind. Behind him, he heard Delai order the whip brought to her. The loud popping snap of nine leather stands brought Gary's head up.

  The Ladies in the stands were suddenly quiet. He turned his head slightly, saw them leaning forward, avidly awaiting his punishment. Gary closed his eyes. The smell of old, weathered wood brought memories of other beatings, increased the panic he felt.

  Then, the first blow struck his bare back. The force behind it shoved him into the rough wooden post. Frenzied shouts sped from the stands. Gary tried, unsuccessfully, to clear his mind of what he knew the metal shards embedded in the braided leather were doing to his back and shoulders. As shenili, Gary couldn't feel the pain as more than intense pressure, almost pleasure. What he could feel was the warm, tickling sensation of blood oozing, then flowing down his back and legs to drip off his suspended boot toes. The bone-jarring beating began to achieve Delai's desire. Though he felt no pain, fear twisted and darted up his spine, swirled uncontrollably in his mind.

  The shouts from the stands became an incoherent roar. Heat gathered, centralized in his groin. Gary moaned. His body, shenili trained, reacted to the cruel stimulus as his trainers had intended. He was sexually aroused. Gary opened his eyes, focused on the silvered wood in front of him. He fought to control and abolish the sudden sensual awareness surging through him. Beyond the post, he saw thousands of Thali women clapping their hands, their eyes bright with excitement as they shouted for more.

  Interminably, the whip slashed his back, whistling and groaning through the air, before cracking against his flesh. The roar of the crowd was slowly drowned in the thunder of his blood pounding in his ears. His vision blurred. Faint with blood loss, he sagged, neither knowing, nor caring that the splinters from the post were piercing his face and chest.

  He didn't know when the whip ceased to strike him. Nor did he hear Delai order Dennis and Juan to let him down. Cold water splashed on his face. Gary blinked dazed eyes to look up at Delai from his prone position on the sand. His mind was too muddled to even wonder how he got there.

  "Get up," order Delai. Gary staggered to his feet. She shoved the whip at him. "Take it. Perform your assigned duties."

  Gary's hand closed automatically on the whip. He shook his head, trying to remember what duty he had been assigned. He looked at the Keeper, opened his mouth to ask what she wanted him to do, but his tongue and lips couldn’t form the words. He swayed, took a step forward to keep from falling, then fell to his knees, anyway. Something warm and wet flowed into his eyes. He raised his hand, wiped his eyes, then stared at the blood smeared across his palm. He remembered then what duty he had refused.

  He looked up at Delai, shook his head, and swayed dizzily. Concentrating carefully, he said one word. "No."

  He saw Delai catch her breath, and start to speak, but before he learned what she would say, a red-tinged black void gathered around him; He accepted its embrace gratefully. His last thought as he lost consciousness was, I won’t hurt my friends.

  *****

  Keeper Delai stared down at the Terran slave sprawled at her feet. She fought the urge to have him killed. He is worth more to me alive, she told herself. Gary was the first, hopefully not the last, shenili in her kennels. Mentally, she added up the extra income he had provided her through the over-pricing of his sexual services. It was almost enough to pay for her retirement. Almost, but not quite. That was reason enough to keep him alive. At least for now. Delai turned to Dennis and Juan.

  "Take him to the infirmary." She glanced at the sentinel beside her. "Accompany them. Tell the Healer to tend him. I want him well enough to entertain within the nine-day." The sentinel saluted, then followed the three Terrans from the arena.

  Delai watched them leave. She remembered the way he had looked when released from the post. She felt a shiver of awareness sweep through her, settle low in her groin. The beating had aroused him. She had seen enough to know that. Briefly, she considered forcing him to entertain her, but the though
t of allowing a vadagz to touch her caused a shudder of distaste to shimmy down her spine. Though she could no longer see them, Delai continued to stare after them. He must be watched more closely, she thought. He may be dangerous. Surprised at the thought, she raised an eyebrow. She determined to discuss the matter with Warder Leanan after the games.

  *****

  Gary climbed to the top of the crumbling northern wall, then slowly lowered himself to the other side. Healer Olimra's warning repeated through his mind. Even after three days of rejuv treatments, the flesh of his back and shoulders wasn't strong enough for sustained, or heavy physical labor. He swayed dizzily for a moment, then started up the faint path.

  Three days recuperating. Three days spent in the infirmary. Gary sighed, took a deep breath. It felt good to move, though he knew he was pushing himself too fast. Had he not been shenili, he wouldn't be able to move at all. The pain would have kept him pallet-bound for days, yet. Gary cursed under his breath, fought the grief he felt, when remembering the many empty pallets in the kennel. He hadn't counted them. He wasn't ready to face how many had died in the arena. Two moons, one full, the other a crescent sliver, shown down on Gary, lighting his way beneath a sky full of constellations now more familiar to him than those of his home world. Much earlier, a strong southerly wind had cleared overcast skies. Gary pushed away his mourning, reveled in the clear star light. When he had passed out in the arena, he had believed Delai would have him killed. Why she hadn't confused him.

  Gary had worked the entire afternoon to arrange the meeting he was going to. In his mind, he termed it the first meeting of the rebel council. He wasn't sure that there was anything he or the others could do, but it was time they at least tried. The Thali were growing more and more inured to murdering the vadagz. At one time, all they'd had to do to stay alive and reasonably healthy was to obey all the rules and regulations set down by the Scarlet Council. But now, it seemed that the Thali searched for new ways to kill them off.

  Moving carefully to accommodate stiff muscles and healing flesh, Gary skirted the occasional low stumps, and the dense clumps of brush eerily silhouetted in an insane patchwork pattern against the light grey of the knee-high briloa. He jerked at the unexpected snap of a twig somewhere behind him. Stepping to the closest patch of brush, he knelt in the shadows. His gaze searched the dim trail running haphazardly down the hill to the compound wall.

  An indistinct figure came into view. His heart lurched; it was a woman. At Gary's insistence, the vadagza had been forbidden to leave the compound tonight. It was too difficult to tell them from the Thali in the dark. Whoever she was, she seemed unhurried, seemed to be searching her way. Gary watched her move toward him. His fists clenched as he assured himself that she was alone. She has to die, he thought. He couldn't let her locate the rebels, and live to report their unusual nocturnal activities.

  Scarcely breathing, he waited for her to get closer. He hoped to surprise her before she could draw her laser. An arm's length from him, she stopped and looked around uncertainly. She sighed, clucked her tongue, jerked her head to throw her hair shoulder length hair back off her face. Moonlight bathed her face. Leanan. Her whispered question disheartened him.

  "Gary? Where are you?"

  Gary took a deep breath of the earthy fragrance of the nyem forest, let it out soundlessly. Maybe she just followed me and doesn’t know about the others, he hoped. He ground his teeth together. If only it had been someone else. He wasn't sure he could kill Leanan, even if he needed to. He stood up, reached out, and touched her shoulder.

  "Here," he said softly.

  Leanan gasped. She flinched away from his hand. For a moment, Gary thought she would scream. When she turned to face him, he realized how badly he'd frightened her. Her eyes were wide over the hand that she had clamped over her mouth. Silently, he watched her, gave her a chance to recover.

  "I saw you leave the compound," she said. Gary heard a faint tremor in her voice. "Why are you out here?"

  After the arena contests, Leanan had been a godsend to the kennel. She had provided medication for those not enhanced, and therefore not treated in the infirmary. She had treated many of the wounds herself. As much as possible, she had rearranged detail schedules, so that those most seriously injured could work the lightest details.

  And, risking the wrath of the Keeper, she had brought them food. Real food, not synthesized, tasteless, guaranteed to provide all nutritional requirements grain for gruel. Nor, so far, had she betrayed Denny Joe. All of that ran through Gary's mind as he studied her. It grated to lie to her. "Just thought I'd take a walk," he answered.

  "At this hour?"

  "I couldn't sleep."

  "A lot of the vadagz couldn't sleep, tonight. You're the twelfth one to leave the compound."

  Trihe choit! Gary willed his pounding heart to slow. "They couldn't sleep, either?"

  Her quiet laugh floated, disembodied in the night air. "And you decided to find them and bring them back before they're missed, right?"

  "Could be."

  "Gary!"

  We’ve been able to trust her so far, but . . .. Gary dug his toe into to the sandy soil under the briloa roots, and sighed. "Please go back, Warder. I'll see to it that they all get back before wake-up bell."

  "You're planning some kind of revolt, aren't you?"

  Gary searched her face in the dim moonlight. She didn't seem surprised. Nor did she seem overly concerned. “Don't ask. Anything. Just go back."

  When she shook her head, he stepped closer to her, caught her face in his hands. His thumbs brushed across her cheeks. The creamy texture of her cheeks amazed him. "I don't want to have to hurt you, Leanan."

  "Could you?" she asked, gazing into his eyes. "Hurt me, I mean?"

  Gary considered her question. He, like the other vadagz, had been conditioned in childhood not to harm, or allow harm to come to, a Thali woman. But then, he had also been conditioned to obey implicitly every command given him. Gary had refused to obey Delai in the arena. I could, he realized, but I don’t want to.

  He said aloud, "I'd rather not find out." He felt her shoulders begin to tremble.

  "Gary, if you get caught . . .."

  "Are you going to report us?" interrupted Gary.

  "No! But, kedalt, Gary, I haven't figured out, yet, why you're still alive after the last violation. If you're caught planning a revolt, Keeper Delai will have you killed!"

  She sounded like she was going to cry. Gary caressed her cheek. Gently, he turned her face so that he could see her eyes. She looked like she was going to cry, too. For a moment, Gary held her captive, forced her to look at him, then abruptly released her, and took a step back.

  "I won't be caught, Warder." Then he saw the tear balanced on her lower lashes slip, roll slowly down her face. He pulled her into his arms for a consoling hug, realized what he was doing, and let her go. He glanced guiltily up the trail. If the others saw her out here with him . . .. He frowned uneasily.

  "Will you meet me here tomorrow? We can talk about it then. I . . .." He took another quick look at the hilltop. “I have to go."

  Leanan finally nodded. Moonlight caught in the moisture on her face, glimmered silver. "Okay, but you better be here, or I'll come after you. Midnight?"

  "Fine. I'll be here."

  She turned, started back down the hill to the compound. A few steps away, she stopped, looked back at him. "Trust me, Gary."

  "I'm trying to, Leanan," he told her gently. "I want to, but . . . it might take . . .." He sighed heavily. If he could get his tongue untangled, maybe he could say what he wanted to. "It'll take some time."

  Fresh tears pooled in the corners of her eyes, shown bright in the moonlight. She gave him an understanding nod, then walked away. Gary waited until he saw her climb the low wall and disappear into the compound, then hurried to his meeting. It took him several minutes to reach the clearing where the others waited. The abrupt cessation of the night zinger's chirping must have given them warning. He found t
hem restlessly watching the trail for him.

  "It's about time you got here," said Oliver. "We had almost decided to go back and try again tomorrow night."

  "Sorry. I was held up." Gary made a quick count to be sure all were there, then joined the circle. He sat down, leaned carefully against a huge nyem, mindful of his injured back. "Have any trouble getting here?"

  Some answered no, others shook their heads. "Good." He didn't tell them about Leanan. Each of the eleven in the circle around him came from a different kennel. They knew nothing of her help with Denny Joe. Most of them didn’t even know Denny Joe existed. Gary cleared his throat. "Let's get started, then." He looked around the circle. "Most of us agree that we have to do something. Anyone have any ideas what that something should be?"

  "Next time we go to the arena for training," suggested Jim Dawson, the oldest of the slaves in Waelni City Vadagz Compound, "we could kill the trainers, and take their lasers."

  "We could," said Gary, with a nod to the older man, "but the sentinel would pick us off one at a time. We might get a few of them, but they'd get all of us. Let's try to find something with a little more potential for success."

  Pete Chadwick spoke up. "I don't think there's anything we can do. We got no place to go, and no way to take care of the little ones."

  "What about the southern continent?" asked Leon. "The Ladies won't go there."

  "Maybe not," said Dave, "but I don't much like the idea of just showing up down there without the men saying it's okay." He scratched his head absently, frowned at his feet. "Besides, the tarvitches might make them send us back. And even if they didn't, how do we know we won't be slaves down there, too?"

  "We probably would be," said Gary. "And it would be harder on the girls. Most of the time, they're treated better than we are up here, but those guys don't see women often enough not to make it worse for the girls."

 

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