Star Bound - Chapter Three

My cell mates helped me acclimate, as best as I could, to the routine our captors had for us. Meals were delivered by guards and a deep indigo creature with six arms, inky black hair, and what looked like tribal tattoos covering mostly exposed skin.

The pain in my wrist during my brief, pathetic, and futile attempt to resist further incarceration, was actually a type of transmitter that helped the powers that be monitor my vital signs. My meals were designed accordingly.

Of course, "meals" is a generous term. I was given a shot that contained whatever nutritional concoction my transmitter told them I needed in order to maintain the best health level they could manage. There was no chewing, swallowing, or taste involved.

And the indigo girl didn't have a gentle touch. What she did have was a plethora of muscular appendages with which to hold me down. We weren't friends. There may have been a lot of feedback noise coming from the nano-tech translators whenever meal time came around.

I hated mealtime. However, compared to cleansing hour, it was a piece of paradise. Once, every other day, a different creature came around with the guards to bring us clean jumpsuits, combs, and toothbrushes. She waited while we each took turns stripping, cleaning ourselves in the shower, in full view of everyone, and then trading our discarded clothing for something more recently sanitized. The way the guards leered made me feel dirtier, despite the soap and water.

This creature with our clothes had sad eyes and fiery red skin. Her shape was very humanoid, but she had no hair of which to speak. Her orange eyes were filled with pity, but she never spoke. Hers, though, was the kindest face of all those we encountered each day, and the only one that didn't have a tendency to sneer at our every discomfort. It didn't make up for the fact that we felt like we were giving the guards their own personal striptease, but it didn't make it any worse, either.

Once, while the guards were forcing one of my new friends to take off his jumpsuit, I inched over to her.

"What's your name?" I ventured.

Nothing.

"What....planet are you from?" Making small talk with an alien creature who didn't really want to share was difficult, but I figured knowledge was power, no matter how little of either I actually had.

No response.

"Okay, then." I began to inch away. She caught my arm and turned bright orange irises to me.

My name is Lavena. I come from a place called Finero.

She let go. I reeled for just a second before I understood. She didn't use her mouth to speak. She projected into my head.

"That was different."

Try to form your thoughts without speaking. I might be able to sense them. These men, they don't like it when I communicate with the cargo.

I tried, but my thoughts were racing. I had so very many questions. Cargo? Where are we going? What are they? Who are you? Why are you here? Is there any possible way to escape? How much longer will we be in here? Is there a reason they picked us? Or do they take people at random? How long has this been going on?

Try to pick just one thought at a time. It's like there is a whole crowd of people in your head when you do that. It's hard to hear.

Focus. Why are you here?

Much like you, I am here against my will.

Are you a slave?

She raised her chin, but didn't look at me. Something like that. I'm paying off a debt.

Is there a way out of here for any of us? Instead of looking at her, I looked around the room, except for the shower stall. I was at least trying to offer my fellow humans some level of courtesy. Though, not all of them returned the favor.

For me? Time. For you? I don't know.

What are they going to do?

They want to keep you as clean and healthy as possible so that you will look like premium specimens at the auction site on Linute. If you look weak or dirty, the buyers won't pay as much for you.

Who are the buyers?

Beings from all over the Greater Galaxies. Having a human slave is illegal, but it's also a status symbol. You are expensive because you are illicit.

"QX486! You're up."

I stripped and showered quickly. My mind raced again so I was having trouble putting a single thought into place for Lavena to pick up.

When I was out of the shower I picked up my discarded items and traded them for cleaner ones. They had taken my undergarments days ago and, instead, given me a nifty little piece of cloth that looked like an over-sized racerback sports bra. When I put it on, though, it shrank to fit me. No underwear had been given to me. Apparently, going commando was the style in outer space. Super.

As she handed me my clean clothes, I heard Lavena's voice in my head again.

Surviving isn't about air entering and exiting your lungs. It's about being strong enough to take your next breath when it hurts so badly you don't actually want to anymore. Remember that. Breathe.

She met my eyes briefly, and then turned and left the cell with the guards. Her words rang ominously in my head long after she was out of my sight.

*****

To pass the time several of us would talk about movies we had seen, books we had read, music we liked. None of us dared talk about our families. We knew they could listen in to whatever we said and didn't want to put our loved ones at risk. Well, that was part of the reason. We also didn't want to think too hard about them. If we did, the heartbreak of knowing we would never see them again, and never had a chance to say goodbye, was enough to tear us apart. We were all doing what we could to hold it together. No need to add fuel to the fire.

I have always hated exercising, but when you are left too long with nothing to do, sometimes even a workout is preferable to going completely stir crazy. Sit ups, jumping jacks, push ups, yoga, anything to keep moving.

They never turned down the lights for us to sleep, so we just rested when we were tired. The problem was, many of us had nightmares during which we relived some part of our abduction. It was not uncommon to have someone cry out and then sit bolt upright covered in sweat where a moment before they had seemed peaceful.

I tried to sleep. Sometimes I was afraid to close my eyes, afraid of what I would see when I closed them. I was more afraid of what I would see when I reopened them. Sometimes, I wasn't sure what was worse.

Garren, the guy who slept on the cot below mine, would sometimes shake me awake from my nightmares and then sit with me until I calmed down. I did the same for him. He usually didn't say that much, but he didn't have to.

Most bunk mates seemed to do that for each other. Elan and Arabella, Gloria and Ric, Morris and...A6; they all appeared to have the same unwritten agreement that Garren and I did about waking each other up from the worst of the nightmares and then just sitting together until the sufferer could pull themselves together.

A6 wasn't his real name, of course. The guards, Bruegans, Lavena had told me they were, called him QA617, his Earth name was something most of us couldn't quite pronounce. We tried, but when it got difficult, we just called him A6, as if it were a one-word name, like the brand of shoe. He didn't seem to mind, but I always felt guilty about it. I tried to practice his real name whenever I spoke to him. It had two clicking sounds in the middle and I was pretty terrible at it, but I felt like a botched version of the real thing was better than his alien designation.

Apparently, our codes had less to do with any alphabetical or numerical order than they had to do with our cell location, and a code for what part of Earth from which we were taken. Getting information from Lavena was slow going because she didn't see us but for a little while every other day, but she was willing to provide it to me. Sometimes she was so willing to provide it to me that I wasn't sure if I should trust her, but I couldn't figure out exactly why they would feed me false information as opposed to no information at all.

My living conditions were making me paranoid.

Goat Lady, also known as Amel, stopped by after one of our meals, by my best calculation, a couple of weeks into our trip. Bilko was on her heels and a guard stood watch. Garren and I were thumb wrestling while sitting on his bunk. He had been telling me about where he grew up; it was a town to the southeast of Munich. It was a place I'd never been.

"QX486 let me look at your face."

I rolled my eyes, but stood and took a step slightly closer to her.

"Good. The bruise and cut are both healing nicely. No further treatment is needed before our landing." Amel, finished with her quick assessment, turned to go, but Bilko remained, so she stopped.

"She does look much better now, doesn't she? Come with me."

"No." Garren and I said in unison as he stood and came shoulder to shoulder with me.

"Don't worry, boy, your friend will be returned to you in time. Let's go."

"No." I shook my head.

"You don't really have a choice," he lowered his head a little to be even with mine, "It's time to ride the Pony Express."

I felt my eyes get bigger, my peripheral vision caught my cell mates exchanging looks, my breathing increased and I tried not to shake. I ached with fear.

He reached for me and I took a step back. He reached for me again. I took another step back. I ran into the bunk.

"Corvus." He called the guard over his shoulder without taking his eyes from me. 

"Activate her collar."

My collar. They had fastened it around my neck weeks ago. It wasn't tight. I could wash around it. I never forgot it was there, but it had never before served a purpose. I wish that were still true. The guard hit a code on our keypad and the electrical current that zapped me in that moment was excruciating. I hit my knees.

It was a shock collar.

"Now?" He asked.

"No." I would rather be electrocuted than raped.

"Corvus, activate all their collars."

The screams of my fellow humans filled the air. They were all affected. Garren hit his knees next to me with gritted teeth. I was on all fours, and he soon joined me. This lasted longer than the first jolt. It was only a few seconds, but it felt like half a lifetime.

"Don't go. Not for us." Garren was still catching his breath, but he tried to move between Bilko and me. It was the first time since my twin brother punched that handsy frat guy in college that someone was actually trying to protect me.

So I had to go. I couldn't let him suffer for me.

"Stop! Okay."

"No! Scarlett, did you not just hear me?"

"I knew you could be reasonable." Bilko gloated. I tried not to look at anyone else, so I focused a hate filled gaze at Bilko.

"Scarlett! No. We're probably going to die soon anyway. Don't do this." Garren gripped my wrist.

"Corvus, QR904." Bilko pulled me from the floor and out of Garren's grip just as his collar activated again. I was thrown over Bilko's shoulder like a bag of dog food. My head still twitched a little. "That's enough. Seal them back in," he said casually as he stepped out of the cell.

In my position, slung over Bilko's shoulder like that as he walked behind Corvus and Amel, I was able to look back to my cell. Arabella, Elan, and Morris had all moved forward and watched from inside the electrified barrier with a mixture of horror and sadness on their faces. Garren, still on his hands and knees, wore a mask of pain and fury.

The other cells I passed watched with curiosity and wariness as I went by.

My head was buzzing, but I was trying hard to think of what to do. There had to be something. I was going to fight. I just had to stop tingling long enough to be able to feel my hands before I could throw a punch.

I was still trying to figure out a plan when we passed through a doorway into what was clearly living quarters, nice ones. We had traversed enough of the ship to know that it was bigger than I had originally guessed. Lavena told me that it had smaller travel pods that picked up "cargo" and returned to it, while it hid out of the way of satellites, but I still hadn't pictured something like this. It rivaled the size of some hotels.

NASA’s budget was far too small if they didn’t have the resources to see this mamma jamma hanging out so close to home.

He slid me down his body until my feet hit the floor. I immediately took a step back. He eyed me for a moment before closing the distance. I stepped back again and again, faster each time, with him steadily approaching in a very predatory manner until I backpedaled into a wall. I glanced to the side and saw a porthole. Lights were flashing by in an unusual manner. I had seen lights like that before, never in person, but in pictures and documentaries. Aurora Borealis looked just like that.

Trying to distract myself from the warm breath I felt on my neck, and buy time enough for me to think of something, I asked, "What is that?"

"You're looking at the inside of a wormhole. We're taking a shortcut. I want you all to still be alive when we get there." His tongue touched my ear. I started and slid sideways. I hit a table with my thigh.

His dark laughter sent shivers down my spine. He picked a bottle off the table and looked it over, before showing it to me.

"French wine. It came with a darling little sommelier. She cried too much, though. You won't disappoint me with tears. No, you're a fighter."

I was about to also be sick. He replaced the bottle on the table and stuck his hand in my shirt.

I kneed him in the groin. He might have been an alien, but I was betting that since he was planning on raping me, his reproductive organs were similar and it would still hurt. It did, just not enough. He recoiled a bit, but he didn't go down.

He grabbed my thighs, and his talons dug into my hamstrings. I could feel the skin start to break and the blood trickle down my leg as he lifted me up and pressed himself against me.

"You'll pay for that, several times over."

He set me on the table, knocking the bottle to the floor. It broke and the smell of wine filled the air. His hands left my thighs and he started clawing at my shirt. He was shredding the fabric with each swipe. I brought my hands to either side of his face and put my thumbs in his eyes and pushed. He roared in pain and stepped back. Without him balancing me on the table I fell off of it and to the floor. Broken glass from the bottle cut my palm, as I rolled to land on my hands and knees. I picked up the broken bottle by the still mostly intact neck and spun on my knees. I thrust the bottle upward to meet him as he came at me. The jagged edges pierced his clothes and his scaly skin as blood poured forth. He made a choked sound and staggered back before falling to the floor.

Apparently, broken glass hurts worse than a knee. His groin was dark with blood. The sound he made was what I imagine a wounded lion would make in a dominance battle. I made a break for the door. There wasn't really anywhere to go, but I needed to be out of this room.

I didn't make it.

The door opened and my shock collar went off as two guards rushed in, one of them with a device that obviously controlled my collar, but looked eerily like a television remote, in hand. The shocks kept coming.

At some point, Amel entered and sounded frantic. "Stop! Her vital stat alarm is going off, she can't take much more, you'll kill her!"

"She attacked the Admiral."

"If she dies, she's worthless! I want my money!"

The conversation continued. My ears picked up the sound, but nothing registered. The corners of my visions darkened and were closing in with each beat of my heart. The shocks stopped, but my heart was beating out of my chest and I was sure I was seconds away from a heart attack.

"Get Admiral Zadak to the med bay. He's losing a lot of blood."

"I want her dead!" He bellowed, though his voice was weaker than before.

"You're in shock, so I'm in charge now. She lives, but I'll take care of it." The guards carried Bilko out of the room, and Amel stopped by me. "You better be worth the troubles you've caused." With that, she kicked her hoofed foot into my abdomen and all my breath left me. The thread of consciousness I had been clinging to slipped through my fingers.

I awoke in the med bay where Amel first inserted my nanobytes. She was there, again, and working a bandage around my hand.

"At least most of the damage won't be noticeable from the auction block, and the cuts ought to mostly heal before then." I didn't know if she was talking to me or to herself.

I picked up my head and regretted it. The room spun. Queasiness engulfed me. I set my head back down. There were bandages on my thighs, and around the bottom part of my rib cage. I wasn't wearing my jumpsuit. Amel finished with my hand and tossed a new set of clothes at me.

"Here, get up and get dressed. We need to get you back to that cell before the Admiral comes out of sedation. If he sees you, he'll have you killed. I would rather sell you."

I stood up and began dressing. It took a few tries because my feet seemed to think we were at sea. My torso cried out with each movement.

"The pain will subside. Get out."

So much for bedside manner.

A guard "escorted" me back to my cell. My feet hurt with each step, but my dizziness subsided. He had my shock collar remote and what looked like a nightstick. He threatened me with both, repeatedly.

When I arrived back at my cell, all conversation ceased. Garren stood up from his bunk and approached me. He opened his mouth to say something, but then closed it again. He didn't touch me. He just waited.

"He didn't rape me. He tried, but I, uhm, I sort of stabbed him with a broken bottle."

"Holy skweee-eerrrt!" It wasn't Morris, but Elan.

"Good for you," Arabella chimed in.

"Is he dead?" This was Ric.

"No. He won't be having sex anytime soon, but he's alive."

"Wait, are you saying you stabbed him in the..." Morris made a motion with his hand as if he couldn't even say the words because it might happen to him if he voiced it out loud.

"Yeah." My voice sounded small.

They gawked at me.

Garren still didn't say anything, he just raised his eyebrows in a way that asked if I was okay. It was that gentle, friendly, concerned look that set me off. I broke down into tears, big heaving sobs. I walked to him and tucked my arms between us. He wrapped his arms around me. It might have seemed a strange gesture for someone I had only known a couple of weeks, but it turns out that alien abduction and incarceration on a spaceship together is a way to make friends a little faster.

I cried and cried. He just hugged me, sometimes running his hand over my hair and saying, "I know, I know." It was soothing. I don't know how long I was like that, but he never tried to move away. It wasn't until I lightly pushed that he backed up. His bunk was on the bottom, so I sat on it. I didn't want to bother climbing to mine. I stared, unseeing, across the room. He just sat next to me, shoulder to shoulder, and said nothing, just like after I had a nightmare. Only this time, I was still living it.