Alien Caged (9 page)

Sprague cocked an eyebrow at her.  “I’ve wondered too.  I get the feeling he’s going to trade them for provisions or funds.”

Elisa felt a thrill of excitement for a little information on Clan Zemos’ fate, even if it only turned out to be rumor.  She cautiously asked, “Trade them?”

The kitchen manager looked around, as if to make sure no one was listening in on their conversation.  It was a joke; Sprague was one of the biggest gossipmongers on the ship.  Anything he told Elisa, he’d have already told anyone else who would listen.

He leaned a little over her prep block.  In a low voice, he said, “There are those who wouldn’t mind having that kind of muscle for slave labor.”

Elisa’s brows drew together.  “But we’ve been in Empire space all this time.  There are three territories that surround Kalquor’s territory.  Two of them, the Galactic Council and Joshada, don’t allow slaves.  Since Galactic Council member planets can’t enslave each other’s people, that leaves out Bi’is as well.”

Sprague smirked.  “It could be Bi’is has a black market thing happening when it comes to that.  The little gray freaks had issues with Kalquor in the past, to the point they wanted to destroy them several centuries ago.  Or at least that’s how the story goes.”

Elisa swallowed thinking of the Bi’is.  They’d been rumored to have abducted Earthers from her planet for years, even before Earthers wandered out of their little remote corner of the universe and learned there were other sentient beings out there.  The small gray bipeds, with their huge heads and tiny bodies, didn’t look much like a threat.  Yet their technology was such that few could hope to survive armed conflict against the Bi’isil race.  Their rigid society took offense easily, and they had a strict code of destroying those who approached them in a manner they deemed inappropriate.

Elisa said, “I didn’t realize Bi’is and Kalquor had been such enemies.”

Sprague nodded sagely, as if he’d passed great wisdom on.  “Oh yeah.  You know how easy it is to insult a Bi’isil.  They loved taking Kalquorian slaves back in the day, so I wouldn’t be surprised if they still snag them when they can.”

“I can’t believe they’d get away with such a thing.”

“Why not?  It’s damned hard to keep tabs on the little gray fuckers when just entering their space requires specific rituals and rules.  Who knows what they get up to with all that secrecy?”

Elisa’s guts squirmed at the thought of gentle Miragin collared by a cruel Bi’isil master.  “Do you really think that’s where we’re taking the Kalquorians?”

Sprague shrugged.  “Who am I to say?  This ship runs on a need-to-know basis.  I’m just the kitchen manager, so I don’t need to know.”  He gave Elisa a sly grin.  “It could be that I have a friend on the security staff, however.  And it could be he dropped a hint that we were on course for Bi’is space.”

Elisa was desperate for concrete information, not rumors.  “He didn’t know for sure that’s where we’re going?”

“Of course not.  Like us, he’s not anyone who needs to know.  He just happened to see the latest navigation plots last time he had duty on the bridge.” 

Sprague’s smirk faded and he scowled down at the meatloaves waiting to go into the oven.  “Dirty Kalqs eating all our food.  Captain Walker had better be getting a good price for them.”

“I suppose that might make sense, trading slaves for provisions.”  Elisa felt ill.  Would the captain, such a kind-seeming soul, really sell the prisoners into slavery?

Sprague kept on talking, spewing bile that only furthered her despair.  “Personally, I’d rather see the Kalquorians poisoned.  But then, that might be a kindness if they’re destined for Bi’is.  Those Grays go through slaves pretty damned fast, I hear, even tough bastards like Kalquorians.”

With that he walked off, leaving Elisa shaken and frightened for Zemos’ clan. 

* * * *

Her cart clattering, Elisa entered the general population brig where the Kalquorian destroyer’s surviving crew had been incarcerated.  The guard office was much like the one in the maximum security wing with a table, chairs, and a blank-screened vid.

The lone guard on duty was playing solitaire with a tattered deck of cards.  He looked up at Elisa with little interest as she guided the food cart into the room.  His name tag read ‘Larsen’.

Usually there were two guards on duty for general population detention.  Elisa wondered if the missing man was out sick or had escaped the ship.

She met Larsen’s eyes and nodded a hello.  Larsen had never given her any trouble.  She had the impression he simply came in, did his job, and faded into the background as soon as he was able.  He was young, probably still in his early twenties.  Yet today his eyes were almost as blank as a dead man’s.  Once, about a month ago, Elisa had walked in on Larsen as he rubbed his reddened eyes.  She was pretty sure he’d been crying.

With his far-off gaze, Larsen stood and put a blaster and his field disruptor on his belt.  He led the way through the door.

As Elisa stepped into the block, Larsen said in a voice as dead as his eyes, “Mind the puddles, miss.  The two guards on morning shift hosed them down.  They said the prisoners were starting to stink.”

Elisa kept her expression as noncommittal as Larsen’s tone.  She felt bad for the Kalquorians as they approached the first small cell.

Ten men were packed in each tiny space.  Elisa thought they must sleep in shifts, since there was not enough room for the crowded aliens to all lie or sit down at once.  Today, they were all dripping wet in the chilly cell block.

Helpless anger filled Elisa to see the big Kalquorians reduced to such uncomfortable circumstances.  The brig was not large enough to accommodate all the crew that had been captured, so conditions were already untenable.  She had the feeling Captain Walker wouldn’t approve of the hosing.  Knowing the majority of the guards, they’d sprayed the prisoners with high pressure, for no reason except to make the Kalquorians more demoralized than they already were.  Even the bit of bedding in the cells looked soaked through.

Despite the treatment they’d received from her fellow shipmates, the men in the first cell bowed respectfully to her, as they always did.  They even nodded at Larsen, though he stared at the floor with his blank gaze.  With the young guard determined to keep his eyes averted, Elisa offered the prisoners a quick smile of sympathy.

She made her small opening in the containment field and handed in their lunches.  The sodden bunch all broke into delighted smiles at the sight of meatloaf.  The first to receive their food dug in hungrily and nodded at her, making appreciative noises as they ate.

“That meatloaf sure does smell good,” Larsen said, so quietly Elisa barely made it out.  His voice was listless, as if he couldn’t summon the energy to speak.

“Give him a slice of mine, Matara,” one prisoner urged as she started to hand him a tray.  “The boy is losing too much weight and needs it.  You should take a slice too.”

Larsen hunched and shuffled back.  Emotion flooded into his eyes at last, an ocean of pain as he looked up at his would-be benefactor.  He shook his head.  “We’re not allowed, and I don’t deserve it.  Thank you anyway, Nobek Kom.”

Kom sighed and took his tray with a shake of his head.  “You couldn’t stop them from hosing us, youngling.  If you had tried, it would have gotten you into a lot of trouble.”

Blinking hard, Larsen turned away.  Kom moved back, eating and watching Larsen with pity, as if the Earther was the one imprisoned.  Other Kalquorians looked sympathetically at the guard as well.

Elisa sighed too.  Despite all they suffered, the Kalquorians were kind to those who treated them as well as possible.  Even Larsen was not despised for the indignities his fellow guards inflicted on them.

She and Larsen moved down the cells.  Over and over she was greeted by respectful bows and murmurs of “Hello, Matara.”  Polite nods were accorded Larsen.  No one subjected her to rude catcalls and no one bared fangs at the man keeping an eye on them all. 

Back in the guard office, Elisa rearranged her cart as she always did, readying for her trip into maximum security.  Larsen took off his field disruptor and blaster.  He sank into his chair at the table and stared blankly at the card game he’d been playing.

“They aren’t monsters,” he whispered.

“No, they aren’t,” Elisa said.  “But you can’t go around telling people that.”

“I knew it was fine to tell you.  You’re all right.”

“Just be careful, okay?  You can’t allow others to see how much you hate this.”  Elisa feared for the young man.  In his anguish, Larsen was losing the ability to hide his feelings.

“You know as well as I do that we should have given up at the end of the war.”  Larsen looked up at her.  “You do realize that if there really is a Hell, we’re going there, right?  For our part in this?”

“Stop it,” she urged, terrified by the hopeless look in the young man’s eyes.  “You can’t start thinking and saying such things.  Next thing you know, Chase or Robards will be beating you ... or worse.”

“We’re the monsters,” Larsen insisted, as if she hadn’t spoken.  His gaze went blank again, as if he had vacated his own body in the desperate need to escape. 

Elisa left him staring unseeing at his solitaire game.  Her thoughts were on what Sprague had told her, that they might be selling the Kalquorians into slavery.  All those kind, respectful aliens who didn’t hold her or Larsen accountable for what had befallen them were destined for their own hell if that was true.

Larsen’s right.  We are as much to blame for whatever happens.  We’re allowing it, and that makes us just as guilty as the rest, she thought. 

Elisa paused between the two brig areas to gather herself so she didn’t start sobbing.

Chapter 5

Elisa recovered before moving on, only to feel ill again at the sight of Remington on duty in maximum security.  He grinned up at her as he played solitaire, his eyes crawling over her body.  It was like the two guard offices were mirror images, with this side showing a brutal parody of the other.

Elisa kept her features as indifferent as possible, though she had the urge to run screaming.  Her fingers itched to clutch the spray bottle of vinegar in her pocket.  Her nerves were raw right now. 

Remington didn’t note any tension, because his tone was easy as he gloated.  “Well, well, here we are again, despite all the efforts of Captain Kalq and his butt buddies.”

Not really caring whatever it was he alluded to, Elisa asked indifferently, “What do you mean?”

His grin only got bigger as he stood.  His chest puffed out as if he’d accomplished something worthy of a trophy.  “I scared the big cowards yesterday.  The Kalqs made a plea to Captain Walker to get me re-assigned.  The captain tried to do as they asked, but Lieutenant Commander Robards said to keep doing my shifts as usual.  He told me to keep up the good work.”

Robards had countermanded the captain’s order?  Elisa knew that wasn’t a good sign.  The tactical officer in charge of ship’s security was a hardliner, worse than even Commander Chase.  Robards ordered beatings for the smallest of infractions.  He was the one rumored to be secretly executing those attempting to escape.

The ramifications of Robards’ actions paled in the here and now as Elisa remembered what Remington had alleged yesterday to Clan Zemos.  How was she to look them in the eyes when they thought she slept with this disgusting little shit?  If only Robards had re-assigned him!

Her teeth clenched together, Elisa said, “I need to get back to the kitchen.  Can we get this done?”

Remington put his blaster and field disruptor on his belt.  “Sure, sweetheart.  Anything you say.”

His smirk made Elisa want to punch him in the face.  Or spray her vinegar.  Watching Remington try to claw his eyes out would be a delight. 

Her heart drummed as she followed him into the cell block.  Despite the humiliation of what Remington had told the Kalquorians, Elisa couldn’t help but look forward to seeing them again.  Just the few seconds she would look at them would make getting through the next hours worthwhile.

Oret stood front and center near the containment field as Elisa brought the lunch cart close.  Miragin and Zemos stood a couple feet behind him.  All wore welcoming smiles for her and pointedly ignored Remington.  Her tension eased.

The guard didn’t like being treated like he wasn’t there.  He sneered at the three Kalquorians.  In his most strident tone, Remington declared, “Here you go, you freaks.  Food and a female to make you salivate.  I wonder which one they’d take if given the choice, huh Elisa?”

Elisa’s face burned as she got the first dish ready to hand in to Oret.  She remembered all too clearly the things Remington had told them yesterday.  What must they think of her?

Well, she hadn’t done anything even slightly untoward with the nasty little bastard.  Not with any man for that matter, no matter what they had whispered in her small hometown.  She had nothing to be ashamed of.

Elisa squared her shoulders and looked Oret right in the eyes as she opened the small window in the field.  His smile was gentle, completely at odds with his strong features.  The Nobek’s expression said he didn’t believe anything Remington said for one second.  The icy cold that had settled in Elisa’s stomach thawed in his regard.  The corners of her lips twitched up as she handed in the food tray to him.