by Eve Langlais
Then there were those in cages by themselves because they were considered dangerous, like the Toro’nim, who hunched in his cage waiting his turn, his glare daring anyone to get close enough for him to wrench them apart. He would fetch a fine price as a warrior for someone with the wealth to put him to use in the fighting pits of Lac’uus.
Others, like the seer, were alone in their cell, their worth in their beauty or skills.
It made Ray uncomfortable to see so many prisoners, especially knowing they had no say or control of their future. It seemed like the worst nightmare to him.
But what could he do?
I could free them.
And he called Zak crazy. Before he acted on the impulse, he hurried after Zak, who threaded past the bodies blocking his way, intent on the cage moving to the end of the line, the slim robed figure within barely noticeable.
Catching up to his friend, Ray used a gear implanted within his auditory canal to send a message.
How are we supposed to get her out of the cage and away from the Ymp? The new owner kept pace with his purchase and would notice if they took her.
Don’t worry. I’ve got an idea.
The most dangerous words anyone could say, and yet Ray smiled. His friendship with Zak hadn’t lasted this long because they always followed the safest course.
Being with Zak meant adventure. Excitement. Some danger, too, but the adrenaline rush more than made up for it.
Which was why, when Zak intentionally bumped the Ymp and began flailing his hands in protest, Ray sidled close to the bars of the cage and muttered, “Be ready,” to the female inside.
“Don’t interfere,” was her reply.
That startled him enough he threw her a glance. Her head lifted, and he found himself close enough to see the outline of a face within her cowl. He met her gaze and saw the silver flare of her eyes. How unusual, especially since she showed no bionics when he’d scanned her.
Before he could say anything, he heard Zak exclaim, “You touched me. Inappropriately.”
“Did not,” huffed the Ymp. “Trust me, you’d know if I did.”
“I felt it. Which means you owe me. I don’t give gropes for free,” Zak announced, tossing his head, doing his best to look coquettish.
Ray almost rolled his eyes. Not this again. It hadn’t worked last time he tried, and they’d had to escape that situation by throwing the sparkly yaga flowers he’d won in a card game.
“I owe you nothing, metal man. On the contrary, you should be paying me for touching you,” the Ymp haughtily declared. “I am, after all, a prince among my kind, related to the mighty Ferocious Raging Eliminator of the Dense.”
Did he refer to the Fred? A big boast for any Ymp to make, given Fred was legendary because of his prominent role in guiding the Rhomanii to their home world and then, with his loyal legion, taking it from them.
Zak jabbed a finger and wagged it. “Aha! So you admit to touching me. I shall have you brought up on charges.”
“By who? The market doesn’t care about claims of sexual impropriety,” said by the Ymp with a sneer. And entirely correct, too.
The market had one rule and one rule only: Don’t kill on its premises. All assassinations and fatal encounters were to occur outside the market. Ironic really given there were no restrictions on the selling of weapons to accomplish said murder or the paying of a contract demanding death.
“I care. You made me feel dirty,” Zak huffed, doing his best to appear aggrieved and failing miserably. He also cast a pointed glare at Ray and bobbed his head to one side as if trying to tell him something. But all Ray heard through his communicator cog was a buzz. Too much traffic had shorted the signal.
He mouthed, “What?”
Only to find himself distracted as the Ymp yelled, “Hey, you, where you do you think you’re going? I own you. Get back here.”
A peek over his shoulder showed the female having somehow managed to open her cage and exit it to mix with the crowd. Hood of her robe pulled over her head, she never once looked behind, but her brilliant white robes and her bid for escape drew attention.
Guards, recognizable by their dark garb and the fact that they held large weapons quite openly, moved toward the woman. The Ymp pushed and shoved his way through the bodies arrowing for her.
As for Zak, he grumbled as he joined Ray. “This wasn’t part of the plan.” A plan that was quickly going to shit. “Why didn’t you hold on to her when you freed her?”
“I didn’t free her.”
“Why not?” Zak exclaimed. “Why do you think I distracted the Ymp? It was so you could get her out.”
“That was your brilliant idea?” Ray snorted.
“Got another?” The sarcastic rejoinder as they joined the flow of people heading for the exit, an exit quickly jamming as a ring of soldiers placed themselves around the seer. They were about to lose her, and that didn’t sit well with Ray at all.
His mental wheel spun for a tic or two and rapidly devised a new plan. “Zak, grab the conveyer belt and zap it.”
Rather than ask why, his friend dropped down to lay his hands on the moving belt. Gripping the metal lattice, he gave it a zap of electricity, which caused a short in its circuit. The belt halted with a grinding of machinery that almost made Ray wince.
For his part, Ray pulled forth a tiny pebble from the pouch on his hip, squeezing it between thumb and finger to activate it. It flattened into a shiny disc. He flung it, not bothering to watch as the laser-sharp weapon sliced through the bars, weakening the cages enough that some of the slaves popped free. Most of them stretching, many of them grinning and drooling, flexing claws.
Rather than admire his handiwork, Ray got busy doing the same for the other side.
Only when the Toro’nim roared as it stepped free from its cage did Ray take a moment to cackle. “Freedom!”
Pandemonium erupted. The best kind to use as a shield. The guards suddenly had a more important target than a small woman who offered no threat.
While workers and civilians fled the area, leaving others to be torn into, the guards ran right into the prisoners, a clash that resulted in a lot of yelling, screams, and meaty wet sounds of flesh being punished. The sizzle of ray guns only confused, with the roasted scent of crispy skin that stirred hunger in the belly.
The crowd thinned quickly with the danger, and he and Zak reached the seer, only to notice the Ymp doing his best to force her to obey—and not having much luck at it.
“You belong to me. Look inside your predictive mind and you’ll see,” huffed the Ymp, digging in his feet as he tried to hold back his prize who took firm strides toward the door.
Impressive. Ymps weren’t exactly weak.
“I belong to no one. Unhand me, foul creature,” she exclaimed, more irritated than afraid, judging by her tone.
“You heard the lady. Release her at once,” Ray commanded.
As if the little bastard listened.
Zak sighed. “I really hate it when people make me do this.” He lifted his pistol and zapped the Ymp, which should have put him asleep, or on his butt for a dazed moment at least.
Instead, smoke trickling from his ears, the Ymp turned slitted eyes their way and grunted. “That tickled. Your turn. Bend over.”
“I don’t think so.” Zak leaned forward and grabbed hold of the Ymp by the arms. He must have given him a strong jolt with his electrical implant, the ultimate upgrade. A Tinqqer had devised a way to spin latmevilium, a sentient metal, into a thread-like wire that hooked into his nervous system and amplified it to the point that he could zap things.
In this case, the Ymp proved too big to fry, but he did get a slack-jawed expression and grunted, “That’s good.” He relaxed enough that Zak peeled him from the seer. He then lifted him from the floor and swung him around, launching him into the mob at their back.
“Did you have to give him a boner?” Ray muttered, still shuddering inside given he’d gotten a peek as the Ymp flew by and his loincloth fl
uttered.
“Can I help it if I’m insanely attractive?” Zak grinned. Not at Ray, but rather the seer who watched them.
Silver eyes perused and dismissed them in the same measure. Not saying a word, she turned and took a step to leave, only to have Zak reach for her.
She paused as he wrapped his fingers around her upper arm. She stared at them. “Unhand me.”
“I’m not the enemy. Me and Ray, we’re here to help. Come with us. We know how to get out of here.”
They did? Maybe Zak had an inkling, but Ray, having eschewed even a modest navigational cog, possessed a crap sense of direction. He’d been known to get lost even in the smallest of space stations. It was why he wasn’t allowed to travel by himself anymore and why Zak insisted he get a communication gear. A gear that worked best when there wasn’t so much noise and so many electrical pulses being shot around.
“Who are you?” she asked.
“Zak and Ray, at your service.” Zak tipped her a salute while Ray barked, “Save it for later. We need to get out of here.” The violence neared them. They needed to move.
Apparently, she agreed. Zak adjusted his grip, somehow found a hand amidst the fabric of her sleeve, and tugged her along in his wake. A gun ready to defend, Ray followed, keeping an eye out for anything that seemed too intent on the white robe ahead of him.
They reached the checkout where the attendant sat, an amorphous blob with a single eye stalk extending from her head, her coral hue signaling her current gender as female. A single giant orb swiveled in the mass to peer at them then the massive screen in front of her, which flashed as people ran past. The attendant hollered a few times. “Get back here and pay for that. Hey, you, you’d better be moving toward the kitchens. You’re supposed to be dinner tonight.”
Given no one else stopped, Zak chose to not slow as they got even with the counter, only the attendant had apparently had enough of people skipping past. She heaved her bulk over to land square in their path.
“I say halt and show me your receipt!” The jelly body projected an arm to create a barrier, and her staunch trunk adhered to the floor, an almost immovable wall of flesh.
The seer, as if she’d known it was coming, had already bent her knees and pushed from the floor. She soared, a foot landing and sinking into the squishy mass of the attendant. This gave her—and by token Zak, who remained by her side—leverage to vault over and keep running.
Leaving Ray to face a really angry attendant.
He didn’t feel right shooting someone doing their job, so he veered slightly to the left, meaning the pounding of feet at his heels slammed right into the worker. But she didn’t seem to mind as she huffed, “And that will be an extra charge for assault.”
Ray kept running, shoving through bodies, most with the same plan in mind—getting away. He’d lost sight of his friend, and despite many attempts to contact him via his comm—“Zak, are you there? Answer me, you rusted bucket of nails.”—all he received in return was static.
But luck was with him today. A long hallway, then a mostly empty cafeteria and an intersection later, he came across Zak arguing with the woman.
“…ways must part.”
“Listen, lady—”
“I am not a lady but a handmaiden,” she retorted.
“Whatever turns your crank. It’s dangerous for you to wander on your own.”
“I can handle myself.”
“You call being sold on the block handling yourself?” Ray snorted as he approached, stuffing his gun into his holster. He couldn’t help but puff his chest as she admired his ensemble. He knew what she saw.
The knee-high glossy white boots, the skin-tight brilliant blue trousers, and a black velveteen coat trimmed in silver. A pocket watch dangled from a chain, and his goggles sat perched atop his head. Unlike Zak, who’d chosen to wear a hat, despite it being out of fashion.
“My capture was an unfortunate incident, which I was in the process of rectifying when you interfered.”
Ray swept an arm indicating the corridor behind. “You want to face that mob alone, be my guest.”
“You started that violent mob.”
“Unleashed during the course of our daring rescue of your person,” Ray snarled.
Zak tried to soothe. “Doesn’t matter how it started. The important thing is you can trust us. Despite what rumors say about Siyborgh, we’re really nice when you get to know us.”
“You’re Siyborghs?” She glanced between, studied them a little more closely than warranted.
“Zak will show you his gears later. We should get moving.”
But the female chose to stand there muttering instead. “You can’t be serious. It can’t be that easy.” She frowned at Zak. “Is it true that you’re part machine, part man?”
“Upgraded for your pleasure.” Zak winked.
“More like tainted.” Her lip curled, and Ray was done. He didn’t have to listen to her disparage his kind. He got that enough already. Mostly because only the blessed could take the cogs. The pagans in the rest of the galaxies would never understand, which worked for him. That meant more gears for him and Zak.
Rather than give the woman a chance to argue and insult further, Ray scooped her over his shoulder, ignoring her indignant, “Put me down.”
He chose to address Zak instead. “Which way to the ship?”
A hint of a smile on his lips, his friend began to jog, pulling his gun as he took point. A good thing, too. At the next intersection, filled with beings running in all directions looking for cover and escape, they heard a shout.
“There they are with my slave! Apprehend them at once.” The Ymp had found them. Trailing behind him were armed guards.
Zak veered down a new hallway, his long legs eating the distance. Ray kept pace, but it meant bobbling the woman on his shoulder. At least she didn’t protest, but she did taunt. “For a male with metal parts, you move slowly. Can’t you run faster?”
He took it as permission, and in turn, she jiggled even harder upon his shoulder. The added speed didn’t make a difference in the end. The straight hall screwed them.
Streaks of light strobed past to his left, his right, overhead. What surprised him was the fact that not a single laser blast hit him.
“Good thing their aim is as wobbly as an unbalanced gear,” he shouted as yet another failed to come close.
“Good thing,” the seer muttered loud enough to be heard, the heat of her body becoming noticeable even through his clothes and her robe.
What kind of inner temperature did she run? He almost expected to see steam rising from her.
When she struggled to get down, he allowed it but only because they’d reached the final corridor leading to the Eclipse. Ray placed her on her feet and grinned wildly. “Almost free,” he declared as Zak placed his hand on the final access panel, which would open the door to their ship.
“No thanks to you,” she said darkly. “This is where we part ways.”
“You have a ship?”
“Any of these will do,” she declared, waving a hand at some of the other docking doors.
“You can’t leave,” Zak exclaimed after the access panel flashed red. “We went through a lot of trouble to free you.”
“I never asked for your help.”
“We need you. We’re on a quest of great import.” Zak found a way to make it sound noble and stupid all at once.
She snorted. “I have no need of you or your companion.” An unimpressed gaze slewed his way. “Best of luck on your quest.” Her lip curled on the last bit. She turned from them with the bearing of a warrior queen, holding herself ramrod straight as she marched away.
Ray turned to Zak and hissed, “Now what are we supposed to do?” Because they’d embroiled themselves in utter chaos and annoyed more than a few to acquire the seer. A lot of effort and ill will for nothing.
“Which door do you think she’s going to try?” Zak mused aloud, watching her hips sway beneath her voluminous robe as she pass
ed by a few airlocks. “You know what, doesn’t matter. I’ll just get rid of all of them.” Zak brought his arm to his mouth and murmured into the implanted chip that communicated with the Eclipse. “Snap the tethers of all the ships to the left of my position.”
A computer never questioned an order from its captain.
Ray didn’t see the result but rather felt and heard it as the abrupt severing of the docking arms resulted in a sway and creak. More ominous, the rumble and the faint hiss of a seal beginning to leak. Too many undocking too quickly.
The seer whirled and eyed them. “What did you do?”
“My ship doesn’t play well with others.” Zak smirked.
“Are you insane?”
And what did Zak say as he hit her with a stunning blast from his gun? “According to Ray? Yes, I am.”
5
For the second time since her departure from Avhallonn—a home she dearly missed—Nema awoke from being blasted into unconsciousness.
Did the entire universe possess only the type of beings who would attack so cowardly? And not even with a dagger or sword, but a gun—the most dishonorable of weapons—firing from a distance. How was she supposed to protect herself when she found herself ambushed at every turn? At least if she got a chance to fight, she might have a little more control over events.
Perhaps Mother proved correct when she said Nema was ill prepared. After all, what had she accomplished? She’d embarked on the ship Grandmother prepared and then gave it a set of coordinates. She never made it. Not far out of her own galaxy, and after only one stop on her quest, she was set upon by pirates. The captain didn’t kill her, given he saw more credits to be gained if he sold her. Which led to her being frozen cryogenically and brought to the Obsidian Market, a place where anything could be found, information bought, and people sold.
Awakening in a cell, and informed she would be auctioned, she tried to argue her case. It didn’t matter that she claimed to be a victim. They thought they had a prize. It seemed a story about her journey had gone viral.