~ ~ ~
Four hours later, Dr. Phylyxas had concluded his inspection of Ari’s garden. He’d apparently enjoyed himself and had many nice things to say about Ari’s work, plus several suggestions that Ari vowed fervently she would take to heart. He also seemed to enjoy patting Ari on the shoulder a great deal, or putting his hand on her back. Well, maybe that was how they did things on Homeworld—people must be a great deal more urbane and sophisticated there. Ari certainly wouldn’t know.
When he left, Ari offered him the plant on the kitchen table. The woman wasn’t sitting there anymore, and Ari wondered where she’d gone. Maybe she was in the bathroom. Or had gone outside to stretch her legs.
Hopefully she’d reappear soon. Ari had a lot of questions for her, and it might be easier to talk to a perfect stranger about this situation than it would be to talk to her father.
Dr. Phylyxas took Barmensis nobu with a polite smile and told Ari to look him up if she ever made it to Homeworld. “Always a pleasure to meet a fellow enthusiast,” he proclaimed as he left.
His visit had gone so well. Better than she could have hoped for. Ari glowed.
Her glow lasted for about ten minutes, when her door hissed open again and the slave woman stumbled inside, shoved by the sentry.
“Get in there, you ungrateful bitch.” He winced when he saw Ari. “Begging Your Ladyship’s pardon for my language.”
Ari stared in horror at the woman, who had a livid bruise forming on her right cheek. “What happened?”
“Trying to run, wasn’t she?” the sentry said, glaring at the woman. “Without so much as a by-your-leave. We all thought you’d sent her on an errand until we saw her heading for the hangar bay.”
“Why did you hit her?” Ari demanded. “I’m sure she didn’t mean any harm. Did you?”
“Oh, no,” the woman said, giving Ari another one of those inscrutable looks. “Perish the thought.”
“There,” Ari snapped at the sentry, “you see? You can go now.” Her own tone of voice shocked her. How often did she snap at anybody?
This is important, the little voice in the back of her head reminded her, though she was still trying to figure out how important. And why it felt that way. There were slaves all over the station. It wasn’t anything Ari had ever agreed with, but she couldn’t do anything about it, and she was used to it. So why were her hackles raised now?
The door shut behind the indignant-looking sentry, who no doubt wondered why Ari didn’t share his barbarous outlook on life. The unfamiliar voice in her head growled, Too bad.
Gosh.
“You sit down.” Ari nodded at the kitchen table. She winced at the woman’s bruise. “Oh dear, that looks bad. Hold on, I’ve got some slave. Salve!” she corrected with a little gasp when the woman raised an eyebrow. “Uh, I’ll be right back. I make it myself. I mean the salve,” she added over her shoulder as she rushed back into the garden.
She re-emerged a few minutes later holding a tiny pot. She unscrewed the lid and dipped her fingers into the salve before reaching out to the woman’s face. The woman looked back at her with such a stony expression that Ari gulped and offered her the pot. “Uh, m-maybe you’d rather do it yourself.” She wiped her sticky fingers on her skirt.
“Thank you,” the woman said neutrally and took the pot. She dabbed the ointment over the bruise on her face like a pro.
She probably was. Ari swallowed hard when she thought of what this woman must have endured at the hands of the sort of people who worked for Mír. No wonder she was so untrusting. She’d undoubtedly been traumatized.
“It’s not so bad here,” Ari blurted.
The woman looked at her and said nothing.
Perhaps more was called for. “It won’t be like what you’re used to. I won’t let anybody hurt you.” The bruise made Ari wince again. “I mean, I won’t let it happen again. I promise.”
“Oh,” the woman said. “Good.” She dropped the pot of salve on the table, where it landed with a clunk. “I’m sure it will be most pleasant, being your slave.”
Ari gasped. “I didn’t mean it like that. Please don’t think of it that way.” She clasped her hands. “Really, I wouldn’t…” She frowned. “I’m sorry. What’s your name?”
“Slave.”
“Oh, come on. Please. Really. What is it?”
“What else could it be? That is what the pirates do. Their slaves have no name but ‘Slave.’”
Well, that sure sounded horrible. “I’m not a pirate,” Ari snapped. “Nobody here is. We’re not like that.”
The woman snorted derisively. “Aren’t you? You will have a hard time convincing me of that.”
“I won’t have to,” Ari said stubbornly. “You’ll see it for yourself.” If her father wanted Ari to have a slave, well, then she didn’t have much choice. She didn’t really have any. But at least she’d be better to this woman than Mír’s marauders had been, surely.
“If you say so.”
“But what’s your name?” Ari pressed. Then a horrible thought occurred to her. “You do have one, don’t you?”
“No.”
“Oh, my goodness.” Righteous indignation swelled inside Ari. “That’s terrible!”
“Is it?”
“Of course it is! Everybody’s got the right to have a name!” Ari thumped her hand on the table. “We’ll just have to give you one.” She glanced at the spot on the kitchen table where the flower had been resting. “Barmensis!” she said. “That’s the flower I had sitting here. She was really pretty.”
As soon as she said it, her face flamed again. Pretty? She hadn’t meant anything by that, but once the word was out of her mouth, somehow it sounded inappropriate. This woman wasn’t pretty. She was…compelling. Arresting. Dominant. Nothing like what you’d expect a slave to be, and Ari couldn’t say any of that. Ari added quickly, “Would you like that name?”
The woman looked utterly appalled. “You are not,” she said, “calling me ‘Barmensis.’”
“Oh.” Ari bit her lip. “Sorry. I should let you pick it, shouldn’t I?” How thoughtless could she get? You didn’t name people like they were pets. No wonder the woman expected no better out of life, if that was how she’d been treated. “I’m sorry,” she said again. “I’m, I’m not around slaves too much.” She wasn’t around a lot of people. What was it going to be like, having another person always here, in her space, in her home?
“I would never have guessed,” the woman said.
“I don’t want a slave, either,” Ari added. “I think it’s awful.” She wrung her hands together before she could stop herself. “You…you don’t have to stay with me, if you don’t want to.”
The woman glared at her. “And where else would I go? If not you, they’ll pack me off to somebody else. I belong to your father, not to you.”
“Oh,” Ari said, blushing. That was true. They’d barely spoken for two minutes, but the woman already had good reason to think she was an idiot. How could this ever work? “I guess that’s right.”
“I have no name here. I want none.”
“Well, I am not calling you ‘Slave,’” Ari said, trying to sound firm. Somehow it was a lot harder to do that with this woman than it had been with the sentry. “So…um…how about…” Her face lit up. “Assistant!”
The woman blinked. “Assistant?”
“Sure,” Ari said, suddenly excited. “Dr. Phylyxas was right. You can help me in the garden.” She clasped her hands together. Maybe there was a way for this not to be a total disaster. She had to think of something, anyway. “Oh, I’d really appreciate that. I mean, since you have to be here, and if you wouldn’t mind. I’m working on this big new project, and it would be really nice to have another set of hands.”
The woman looked down at her own hands. Ari could see they were slender and elegant, like all the rest of her, but also roughened from work—in a few places, anyway, like she was used to holding one thing in particular all the time. Like Ari was, with trowels.
; “I’m working on developing a cross-strain between two different pea plants,” Ari added. “Dr. Phylyxas said it sounded really interesting. It’s never been done before, either. I’m hoping to come up with a totally different kind of pea.”
“Really.”
“Yes. Hardier than the other two. If it can thrive in harsher climates, then maybe people in rougher environments can have a new crop to…” Ari’s voice trailed off, and she flushed. “And you don’t care.” Like everybody else, except Dr. Phylyxas. “Right. I didn’t mean to rattle on. Sorry.” She took a deep breath and tried to smile. There were probably a lot more fake smiles in her future from now on. Just the thought was exhausting, but she certainly couldn’t let the woman know how uncomfortable her presence here was, especially when neither of them could do anything about it.
The woman kept looking at her, her own face expressionless.
“So,” Ari managed, “if you don’t want a name…is ‘Assistant’ okay with you?”
“I don’t see why not,” the woman—Assistant—said dryly.
“Good.” Ari gulped. “I guess—oh. Did you want your coffee? And oh, gosh. Did you get anything to eat?” When the woman shook her head, Ari added, “Then let’s do that right away.” She stood quickly and then swayed as the room spun around her.
“Are you all right?” Assistant asked, although she made no move to help.
“Oh, yeah.” Ari waved her hand. “I guess I’m hungry, too. I forgot to eat this morning.” She raised her eyebrows as she remembered something. “And this afternoon. And last night, too, I think. I was really busy. Sometimes I don’t even think about stuff like that when I’m into a project.” She gave Assistant a quick look. “But you won’t let me forget, will you? I mean, if you get hungry, don’t hesitate to say something. I’ve probably just forgotten all about it.”
“I see,” Assistant said. “Don’t worry. I will not forget to remind you if my stomach is on the line.”
“Oh, good.” Ari gestured at the kitchen cabinets. “I think I’ve got some ration bars in there.”
Assistant’s eyes widened. “Ration bars?” she said. “Aren’t you the stationmaster’s daughter?”
“Yes,” Ari said, nonplussed.
“And you’re eating ration bars?”
“They’re fast,” Ari protested. “I told you, I’m in the middle of something important.”
“You don’t cook?”
“No,” Ari said. “I mean, I try sometimes, but I’m no good at it.” She tended to get distracted when she had a project on her mind, and her food burned to a crisp if it didn’t catch fire outright. “Um…we can call for something from the mess, if you prefer.”
“I prefer,” Assistant said flatly.
“Oh,” Ari said, feeling very foolish.
“That’s the intercom?” Assistant rose to her feet and headed for the box on the wall. The red light from Ari’s father’s message was still blinking.
“Yes,” Ari said. “You—uh—why don’t you call for two plates? I don’t know what they’re making today.”
“I’ll take my chances, if the alternative is ration bars,” Assistant said.
“Okay.” Ari looked longingly back at her garden, where the plants never tried to talk down to her, or made her feel dumb like people did. “I’ll…I’ll just be working back there. I can show you everything later, after you’ve—we’ve had something to eat. Oh,” she added quickly, “I don’t think you should try to leave again. The sentries aren’t very nice, and they might be looking for you.”
“I’ve worked that out for myself,” Assistant said. Her eyes were flat and cold.
Ari shivered.
Assistant glanced back at the intercom box. “Looks like you’ve got a message. Do you have a passcode?”
Ari blinked as Assistant’s fingertip hovered over the intercom’s touchpad. “Well, yes, obviously.”
“What is it?” Assistant asked, sounding remarkably patient this time. When Ari bit her lip, she said, “Don’t tell me that slaves don’t listen to messages around here.”
“Right, right,” Ari mumbled. That sounded okay. Her father’s personal slaves did that. He had a reputation for being a good master, so it must be all right. “It’s 0243545AG.” Assistant stared at her. “What? It’s easy to remember. It’s—”
“Your birthday and your initials,” Assistant said. When Ari gaped, she added, “Wild guess.”
Ari raised her chin. There was being nice, and then there was accepting open ridicule, and she’d grown tired of the second long ago. Keeping to herself was one way of dealing with it, but since that wasn’t an option anymore…
She said, “It’s no big deal. It’s not like I have access to anything classified or important.” Just because she was the stationmaster’s daughter didn’t mean she was trusted with state secrets. She crossed her arms. “And you don’t have to ferry messages for me, or do anything else. I was getting by just fine without having anybody here.”
Instead of replying, Assistant sighed and keyed in Ari’s code. When she’d pushed the last key, Ari’s father’s voice spoke, a little flat from the recording.
“Ariana, this is your father. I suppose you’re off gardening somewhere.”
Was that an affectionate note in his voice? Ari wanted so much to believe.
“I don’t have long to speak, but I wanted to alert you that you’re getting a present.”
A present? Ari couldn’t look Assistant in the eye.
“We’ve captured a slave from a pirate scouter. I’m sending her to you as a helper. She seems physically capable and reasonably well-spoken, if a little…standoffish.”
Now Ari couldn’t even look anywhere in Assistant’s general vicinity. She gulped and studied the wall instead.
“But that might suit you, since you’re accustomed to solitude.”
Her father’s bland tone gave no indication of whether he thought this was a good thing or not.
“I’m sure you’ll find a use for her in your garden. If she doesn’t please you, let me know, but give her a chance first. Let’s say a week-long trial period before you insist yet again that your plants are all you need. That is”—and her father’s voice grew firmer—“unless she proves dangerous or disobedient. Then I’ll find another use for her immediately. Geiker out.”
The intercom grew silent. Ari’s father could only have embarrassed her more if he’d decided to talk about the time she’d fallen on her face while accepting an award for scholastic excellence during her final year at school. Why not just come right out and say, “I’m forcing someone to live with you so you’ll have to talk to another human being”?
Like other human beings had ever done a lot for Ari.
“Another use for me,” Assistant mused, making Ari glance at her with a nervous twitch. She was still facing the intercom box. “What do you think? Sewage duty? Or just throwing me on a shuttle and sending me planetside to work in the ore mines?”
“Neither!” Ari shifted from foot to foot. The truth was, her father would probably do exactly that. “Sorry. I don’t think you were supposed to hear that. But you don’t have to worry about it.” She assayed another smile. Maybe it’d get easier with lots of practice. “I’m sure we’ll get along fine. And it’s not like you’re dangerous, are you?” She wasn’t going near the disobedient part.
“Me, dangerous?” Assistant looked away from the intercom and back at Ari, who nearly jumped. “What would ever make you think a thing like that?”
Her blue eyes seemed to skewer Ari, but somehow, this time Ari couldn’t look away. They were really blue eyes. And Assistant’s bearing was so grand, so proud—no wonder Dr. Phylyxas had mistaken her for the lady of the house.
Ari’s father had said dangerous. What a ridiculous idea. Ari would be kind to Assistant and would treat her as an equal. Assistant plainly wasn’t stupid, and even if she wasn’t very friendly, either, she’d know better than to try to harm the stationmaster’s daughter.
Ari wasn’t in danger from anything at all. And yet, somehow her knees felt shaky as she mumbled, “Anyway, you can go ahead and get some food, just call me when it’s here.” She ducked back into the refuge of her garden.
No. This day had not turned out at all like she’d expected it would.
CHAPTER 2
It was not until four days later that Ari found the courage to ask Assistant a question.
They were hard at work in the garden. The past four days hadn’t been that bad, really—strange, yes, but not bad. It was odd, but kind of nice to have someone else to help. It turned out that Assistant was a natural at taking charge of things, and everything went much more quickly and smoothly with her there.
It felt less lonely, too, to have another person around. That had been really unexpected. Ari spent so much time in her quarters that sometimes it was easy to forget that anything existed beyond them. Not that she really needed anything out there. Her rooms were enough for her. The kitchen area was right by the door, and her bedroom and en suite bathroom lay at the end of a tile path, one of the few reminders of what her rooms had looked like before her plants had invaded.
Now she lived in a forest out of a fairy tale—a weird one, where the adventure started in a kitchen and then led down a magical path into trees and ferns and flowers. Behind the trees lay a cleared patch of earth for the peas, and the walls were lined with shelves and her specimen jars, but other than that, the illusion was convincing. In fact, Ari was sure she’d caught Assistant looking around a few times with an expression that was almost like wonder.
Who could blame her? When you lived with space pirates, you probably didn’t see a lot of gardens.
For her part, Ari didn’t see much of anything else. Her experience of Nahtal Station was fairly limited. She’d never explored much—even though a population of four thousand people wasn’t much compared to other stations, much less planetside cities, she felt crowded when she ventured into the corridors or the mess hall. She didn’t like the attention she got as the stationmaster’s daughter, either, especially since they all probably laughed at her awkwardness when her back was turned. Much better to stay with her plants. And with her new slave.
The Lily and the Crown Page 2