by Jucha, S. H.
* * *
The rendezvous of the Tanaka and travelers was late in the sting ship’s day, and it was 26.75 hours before Franz, his pilots, and the flight crews finished securing the travelers, arranging sleeping quarters, and unpacking and distributing the cabins’ appointments the third traveler had carried.
Before Franz requested some crew grab a cabin’s worth of material for him, he checked the controller for his cabin assignment.
Franz thanked the SADE and made his way toward the Tanaka’s bow. The captain’s suite was located just behind the bridge. Before entering, Franz checked for implants inside and located only Reiko’s. The cabin door responded to his signal request, sliding silently open. It looks like I’m expected, Franz thought with a smile on his face.
Reiko had retired to her cabin after a lengthy conversation with Eric. She anxiously tracked Franz’s implant, smiling to herself at the thought of a commander who pitched in to help a crew settle into their new ship. Wouldn’t happen in the UE, she thought. As time dragged on, she tucked into bed to await Franz’s arrival. She was falling asleep when her app warned of her lover’s approach.
“Captain, so nice to see you again,” Franz said, entering the sleeping quarters. He crossed to the bed to give Reiko a kiss.
“Whew!” Reiko replied, after she returned Franz’s kiss. “Someone needs to hit the shower.”
“And how hard would the captain like me to strike the refresher?” Franz asked, stripping out of his ship suit, while reminding Reiko of the correct terms.
After three years on Haraken, Reiko was still adopting Meridian terminology. “Please, Ser, off to the refresher with you,” Reiko said, shooing Franz in the right direction with a wave of fingers.
Several people had explained to Reiko how the Méridien refreshers worked, but the complex formulation of the liquid and its reconditioning weren’t particularly interesting to her. That the liquid felt amazing, absorbed dirt and oils, and left the skin feeling refreshed was all she cared about. But the undeniable luxury was that she was no longer limited to three-minute showers aboard ship.
When Reiko heard the refresher running, she slid open the small drawer in the table next to the bed, retrieved the precious crystal Franz purchased for her on Idona Station, and placed it carefully on the table top.
In their home, many days ago, Reiko had been digging through Franz’s storage, searching for carryalls that she might use to move aboard the Tanaka for the trials. Pulling out a large bag, she sought to clean it out and found the delicately wrapped gemstone carving of a Terran deer that she had admired in the shopkeeper’s window only moments before her vicious attack by three rebels. It was a beating she barely survived and that only due to Terese’s skills and Haraken medical technology.
When she found the carving, tears had coursed down Reiko’s face as she cradled the rose and purple crystal figurine. She could guess why Franz withheld giving it to her, not wishing to remind her of the ugly event, and she loved him for his considerateness.
Franz emerged from their refresher, tying a wrap around his waist. Both Reiko and Franz were still a little uncomfortable with the Méridiens’ preferred style of undress in private. In the Haraken naval academy, Reiko discovered men and women, especially the Librans, were often comfortable in the dorm rooms without clothes.
Franz was about to say something to Reiko when his eye caught the tiny, crystal, deer figurine beside her bed.
“I found my gift,” Reiko said. Since Franz was speechless, his hands frozen on the wrap’s knot, she added, “If you're wondering, I love it, and I think it's time for me to have it.”
Reiko had expended a great deal of effort trying to put the memories of the attack behind her, and nothing helped those memories fade faster than the moment she stepped aboard the Rêveur for the trip to Haraken. Franz and his people provided an atmosphere that exuded personal safety and comfort with one another. In their gracious company, the pain of the horrendous beating slowly faded.
“Come here, lover,” Reiko said, sitting up and dropping her wrap. “The hero of Idona Station is becoming impatient for her due.”
-9-
Christie woke up on the deck of a small, utilitarian cabin, no restraints and no metal-mesh bag over her head. She was cramped, cold, foggy headed, and desperate to use the refresher, which turned out to be the simplest style of ship’s head possible. She used the toilet and then gulped water from a faucet with her hands, trying to rehydrate and clear her head.
Struggling back into the cabin, Christie found Amelia and Eloise lying on the floor. She checked each of them for a pulse, greatly relieved to realize they were merely unconscious. It was one of the times Christie was grateful for her New Terran physique, since it appeared her larger body was able to metabolize the drug from the expended patch she found on her neck that much faster.
The cabin was equipped with a pair of bunk beds, and Christie stripped the threadbare blankets from each bed and used them to cover the girls to keep them warm. Then she sat on the lower bunk sipping from a water cup she found on the cabin’s combo desk-table, filling it from the head’s sink. She refilled the cup several times and revisited the head once more, while she waited for Eloise and Amelia to come around.
You just had to check out that club, Christie thought, disgusted with herself. Her momentary fear was that Eloise and Amelia, her two best friends, might not forgive her. “Pull your head out of your ass, Christie,” she mumbled. “Worry about your friendships later … work on getting out of this mess for now.”
When Amelia moaned, Christie popped up and hurried to refill her cup. Picking up Amelia’s head and shoulders, she knelt and slid her substantial thighs under the slender Libran to prop her up. As Amelia’s eyelids fluttered open, Christie smiled at her, never so grateful to see her friend’s sparkling, multihued, Méridien-designed eyes.
Amelia blinked and focused on Christie’s upside-down face. She tried to speak but it came out as a croak, and Christie tipped a cup of water to her lips. The cool water slid down her throat and was exceedingly welcome. Amelia took several sips before she realized it was foul-tasting water. “That water is worse than blah,” Amelia said, and was surprised by her friend’s laughter, followed by tears. “Easy, crèche-mate, we’re still alive,” Amelia soothed.
When the girls were young teens, but recognized their growing relationship, Amelia joked that they were really crèche-mates, and they began referring to themselves in that manner. It was how they encouraged each other in tough times.
Christie pulled Amelia into her arms, hugging her fiercely.
“Easy, big girl, I don’t want to die from a hug while I’m still trying to survive a kidnapping.”
Christie would have riposted with a witty barb of her own, but Eloise began coughing at that moment, and while Amelia crawled to their friend’s side, Christie ran to refill the small cup.
Eloise struggled up with Amelia’s help and sipped on the water Christie offered. “Good to see you two again,” she managed to finally croak out, and Christie and Amelia hugged her, spilling the cup’s remaining sips of water down Eloise’s front.
“What’s this?” asked Eloise, looking down at the ship suit she was wearing.
“Someone dressed us while we were out,” Christie replied, examining her own basic crew ship suit. She unzipped the front down to her navel. “And they’ve taken all our clothes, even our undergarments.”
“Hope they enjoyed the display,” Amelia replied, struggling to stand. Christie helped her over to the lower bunk and sat her down. When Eloise nearly fell as she stood, Christie swept her slender frame into her powerful arms and settled her next to Amelia, and then ran for more water.
“We could each use a cup,” Amelia called out.
“Only found one,” Christie called from the head.
“All the comforts of home,” Eloise grum
ped.
Amelia held out her arms, examining her ship suit, and checked Christie’s when she returned with the cup for Eloise. “Well at least your suit fits, somewhat,” said Amelia. “Obviously, they were prepared for New Terrans but not Méridiens.” With her arms extended, Amelia looked as if she was imitating a boat under full sail.
Christie helped each of the girls to the cabin’s tiny head when they were ready, and then she tore a small towel into strips to tie her friends’ ship suits at the elbows and knees.
“That’s better,” Eloise agreed, looking at the effect of the ties. “At least, we won’t flap while we’re walking around.”
When they were ready to explore their meager surroundings, the girls found the cabin door locked and a hand printed sign in New Terran posted on the door. It said, “Bang on the door or make any noise and the restraints and comm blocks will return. Gags too!” Checking the cabin, the girls found a sufficient number of ration bars for three people for twenty-plus days.
“Wonderful,” Eloise groused. “We’re trapped in this waste of a cabin, which, by the way, has only two bunks.”
Christie looked at the sparse, narrow, bunk beds and quipped, “I’m happy to share.”
Amelia and Eloise eyed Christie’s substantial frame and laughed. It was just what the girls needed after waking from the ordeal of their kidnapping.
“Not only do you get your own bunk, Christie,” Amelia said, “but you’re banished to the lower bunk. We’re not risking fortune by having you fall through these flimsy excuses for beds and crushing us below.”
With the break in tension, the girls carefully searched the cabin for information and tools, but apparently the criminals weren’t novices. There was nothing helpful to be found in the cabin.
Using their internal chronometers apps, the girls determined that when they awoke in the cabin more than two days had passed since the night at the club. After consuming a meal bar and more water, they decided to communicate only through their implants on the off chance they were being monitored, despite the fact that none of them could connect to another implant, comm probe, station, or ship, for that matter. Within days, they estimated the ship would probably exit the Hellébore system.
Amelia replied.
Christie answered.
Amelia and Eloise went to Christie and wrapped their arms around her, sending comforting thoughts.
When Christie seemed to regain her emotional equilibrium, Eloise asked,
Amelia burst out laughing, sending, Both Librans had to agree with that line of reasoning.
* * *
Trapped in the cramped cabin for the duration of the trip, the girls took turns stripping out of their ship suits and exercising in the cabin’s limited deck space. Every few days, as their chronometers metered the end of the day, they washed their suits in the tiny shower and hung them up to dry during the night as they slept.
The first time Christie shucked her suit and began exercising, Eloise sent,
Christie sent back as she continued her exercise routine, moving to the music stored in her implant.
The girls logged nineteen days on their calendar apps from the night they were taken when they felt the telltale shift of exit into a system and the vibrations of the deck, which indicated the engagement of sub-light drives.
The girls waited out the remaining days; the supply of meal bars dwindling. Then early one afternoon, the constant vibration of the freighter’s engines ceased. The girls waited with trepidation for who would come through the door, but no one came. By evening, the last meal bars were consumed, and the girls chatted via implants for a while before turning in for some rest.
In the middle of the night, the cabin door burst open and the lights snapped on.
“Get up,” a huge New Terran ordered. He and his hard-looking partner spread apart to cover the girls as they climbed out of the bunks.
“Don’t bother with the suits,” said the man’s partner, who had a nasty scar across his forehead. He tossed clothing on the deck that the girls recognized was what they had worn to the club.
“You didn’t even bother to clean them,” Amelia grumbled, as she picked up her wrap and footwear.
In reply, the first man, whose blond hair was shaved high on both sides of his head, lifted a baton and an arc of energy danced between the tips.
“Message received,” Christie said quietly.
“Here’s the drill,” Scar said. “It’s 2.80 in the morning here. We’re going to walk to a flight bay like we’re good friends. Should be quiet on the ship, but if we meet anyone, you’re a bunch of good-time fems … understood?”
When the girls nodded, Blondie pointed his baton at Amelia. “You, come here.” When Amelia came close, Blondie slid his baton out of sight in a long pocket in the leg of his ship suit then grabbed Amelia by the hair and pulled her close to his chest. Producing a deadly looking knife, Blondie held it millimeters from Amelia’s cheek, smiling crookedly as he watched the fear grow in her eyes.
“We get no trouble,” Scar growled, “and Jessie here doesn’t have to carve your little fem buddy into slices. Now, we understood?” When Scar received voluble assents from the girls, he added, “Now, that’s the kind of fems I like … real pliable.”
“You, home girl,” Scar said to Christie, “you and I walk up front, arm in arm, like you’re working real hard to earn your credits. You two mutes walk with Jessie.”
Scar eyed everyone, ensuring he had the attention he wanted, and then he opened the cabin door and peeked out into the corridor. Seeing it was clear, he crooked a
finger at Christie. They stepped out into the corridor, and Christie wrapped an arm around Scar’s waist.
Eloise and Amelia did the same with Jessie, and the five of them strolled down the corridor to a lift to take them several levels down to a flight deck. Several times they heard noises as they negotiated corridors, but to the girls’ relief, nobody crossed their path. Cycling into the bay, the group climbed aboard an aging shuttle.
“Better strap in, fems. No grav-plating here,” Scar said, and disappeared into the cockpit with Jessie.
“My nanites will be working overtime,” Amelia griped, after the men were out of earshot, rubbing her rear end and wincing.
“Likewise,” Eloise echoed. “Just what’s with these New Terrans that they like to squeeze and pinch a woman’s posterior?”
“Hurry and strap in,” Christie ordered with urgency, hearing the shuttle engines start. Moments later, the shuttle lurched, spun more than 90 degrees and reversed its spin by a few degrees, before it shot out into the dark. The deep rattle of the fuselage was distinct, as was the acceleration pressure shoving the girls into their seats.
Christie glanced toward her friends and observed their fearful expressions. She couldn’t help but smile, and sent,
Hands clamped to grimy armrests and straps, which cut into her thin wraps, Amelia replied,
Like he needs more admiration, Christie thought, her smile fading. She loved her big brother, but sometimes it was a little too dark in his shadow.