Indentured Bride (2 page)

The alien man stood over her bed a moment staring at her.  The robot flanked the opposite side of her bed.

“You volunteered to be a war concubine, correct?”

Tabitha’s throat grew tight. 
I was delirious.  I don’t even know what that is.  I never volunteered for anything.

No.  Slaves who sniveled were always tortured the worst. 

Still…

“No, serat.”

“Serat is the female term!”  He barked the admonishment while sending out a dot of spittle.  “You will call me,
hith
.”

“No, hith.”  All her masters had been women thus far.  She presumed that was because the men were out conquering worlds for their empire.

“What do you mean, no?  Diplomo said you should be granted the opportunity to switch from slave to indentured servant.  That’s a war concubine.  It’s the only indenturement offered to your people in the treaty.”

Tabitha blinked at him.  Indentured servant, if he was using the archaic term correctly, was something she’d studied in a history class long ago.  It had insidious connotations in her own country’s history.  This was probably no different, but she had to ask…

“I’ll be set free eventually?”

He gave her a look of incredulous anger.  “Of course not.  Where would you go?  There’s no notion of freedom for humans.  You were rightfully conquered and we have no duty to emancipate any human for any reason.”

She stared at him.

After a moment he lifted his nose toward the wall beside him.  “An indentured war concubine can be taken as a bride by her master after he feels she’s served as concubine for an adequate amount of time.  It’s his right to decide how long that time must be.  Once taken as a bride you would still remain property of the Empire, but solely under the jurisdiction of your master.  His superiors could not remove you from him.”

Oh.

They were offering her absolutely nothing, just as she’d first presumed.

The alien set his acrimonious gaze back on her.  “The Alliance demanded special consideration for slaves who would perform sexual tasks.  We granted it.”

Tabitha resisted cringing.  Displays of derision always resulted in a fast tr’sark burn on the cheek.

“I didn’t understand what I was agreeing to, hith.”

He tipped back his head with a malevolent grin.  “Didn’t understand, hm?  Is that it now?  You think you can change your mind whenever it suits you?  Forget it you little
di’tak!
  Arrangements have already been made.”

Tabitha instinctively braced herself for a burn.  It had to be coming.  She’d committed the worst crime a slave could—she’s shown them defiance.

“Ms. Riley,” the robot said, “what is it that concerns you about your transfer?”

Tabitha swallowed down a heavy lump and turned toward him.  His voice, although tinny and sometimes fluctuating in an unnatural way, was far kinder than that of the alien.

“I don’t want to be raped.”

The alien gave a laugh and a scoff.

“You don’t have to concern yourself with that.  I am Diplomo.  I will be accompanying you to ensure you’re not mistreated.”

Her eyes widened.  The robot apparently mistook this as confusion.

“I am a different Diplomo than the robot who was conferring with you before.”

“You’re going to protect me?”  She didn’t know why, but the prospect was causing tearful emotion to rise in her chest.

“Yes, Ms. Riley.”

She blinked and tears ran down her cheeks.

“You still have to fuck your master, you annoying di’tak,” the alien said. 

“The rape of slaves is prohibited by the treaty,” the robot said.

“She’s a war concubine.  She knows what that means.  If she’s not a stupid
piden
she’ll do what’s expected without making a nuisance of herself.”

Tabitha’s heart began to race.

“Ms. Riley, if you no longer wish to be a war concubine I will make arrangements for you to be transferred to the slave compound in Sarasota.  However, it is my purpose to ensure that you are not mistreated by your master.  If you choose to proceed to the Hax-Rah moon outpost I will be with you, and I will do everything in my power to keep you from undue harm.” 

She eyed the robot.  It had a rustic look to it, despite obviously being sophisticated.  It’s possible the thing might be able to challenge her Hax-Rah master, but then again, she had no idea.  She wasn’t even sure what the robot considered mistreatment.  If she was a concubine, and it’s obvious they used the Earth word so she would have no doubt about what they meant, then she was essentially a sex slave.  Would the robot really interfere if her master tried to use her for her intended purpose?

There were too many questions.  Too few answers.  The only thing she knew was that she didn’t want to go back to another slave compound.  Anything, even something as dangerous as this transfer, had to be better than that.

“It’s fine,” she said to the robot.  “I’ll be a…war concubine.”

*

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*

Tabitha was sedated for the two causeway jumps through
thin-space
.  When she fully awoke she saw the moon out the window.  She thought it was Earth’s moon, but then spotted a black creature running on all fours.  Diplomo touched her arm from where he sat beside her on the shuttle.

“We are nearly here, Ms. Riley.”

She blinked at him.  “Where?”

“This is a perimeter moon for the Hax-Rah world Kitra.  The
hex-lord
Jaxil is stationed here.”

Her eyes drifted back toward the window.  “Hex-lord?”

“One who will sacrifice himself to perform work that no one else will do.”

She tried to wrap her mind around the words.

A glistening bio-dome appeared on the horizon filled with blue-green crops and a square building with a flat roof.

“Is that…?”

“That is home for you,” Diplomo said.  “You will not be tending the crops.  There is mechanization in place.”

Oh.
  She wasn’t thinking about that.  The primary duty she’d been made aware of was the sex.  Someone mentioned cooking and cleaning in passing.  It would be wonderful if that was the bulk of her duties, but then, everything was still uncertain now.  Her stomach was tight with anticipation.  

The ship docked in a smaller dome that was connected to the larger one by a tubular pathway.  A small shuttle and an armored car missing a wheel was parked in the docking dome with spare parts piled around them. 

Tabitha disembarked the lonely shuttle with the bag of clothes that had been provided to her.  She was grateful almost to the point of tears to have something other than the drab cotton coveralls she’d been forced to wear in the slave compound.  Now she had bras, panties, close-fitting white shirts, a shawl with sleeve holes, and several pants that resembled bloomers. 

Diplomo led her into the tube which sealed behind them.  She could tell she felt heavier on her feet, but it was a slight adjustment to the new gravity.  The small dome slid open.  Then the shuttle’s thrusters exploded and it left.  It was only her and the robot now, embarking together on her harrowing new adventure.  She was thankful to have him with her.

The air was humid enough to make moisture bead on her skin.  It was not hot however, but a comfortable temperature.  Tabitha felt clammy within minutes.

They exited the tube to a dirt path that led through crops.  One acre looked to be green wheat of some sort.  Tubers were growing across from this.  A water jet started in a plot ahead of them, dousing berry bushes. 

Tabitha felt in a daze, absorbing almost none of it.  The square house loomed before them.  In it she presumed she’d meet her master.  Then she could fathom the true scope of her situation.

Diplomo strode ahead of her to a door that looked like it was covered with some kind of wax paper.  He pressed the call button.  They waited together several minutes, then he pressed again.  When there was still no answer he turned to her with his glowing eye-slot.

“The hex-lord appears to be out.  We will enter and wait for him.  He was informed that we would be coming.”

“Shouldn’t we wait?”

“Seeing to your needs takes precedence over concerns of etiquette.  You’ve had a three day star flight.  You need to recover.”

She pursed her lips.

The door opened without any resistance.  Tabitha tried to take that as a good sign.  If he didn’t want them going in he would have locked it, right?

They entered into a kitchen, the floor of which looked to be tiled with the same wax paper that was on the door.  Tabitha realized the thin layer was the only thing separating them from the dirt.  There was a fat round stove with a single burner and long chimney pipe.  Beside it was a deep free-standing sink.  A square table made from some translucent yellow rock (possibly amber?) and edged with metal filled the majority of the room.  It was covered in machinery parts:  a grimy gear as big as her hand, and large bolts, shafts, and pins.  A light fixture hung over the table, but was off.  Plenty of natural light was streaming in from the numerous windows.

They moved into the next room—a sitting room of sorts.  The angular couch looked like it was made for someone much larger than her.  Yellow stuffing was jutting out from one corner.  The small table before it held some kind of large tool and a dirty cup.  A computer terminal with an attached metal seat was in one corner.  There was also a desk covered in papers and boxed parts, and another armchair which was again very large to Tabitha.

Two rooms came off of the living room.  A dingy bathroom with a metal tub ringed in filth and a bedroom almost completely filled by a lumpy bed.  There was a piece of chest armor on the unmade bed that could have fit two of her inside of it. 

“Ms. Riley.”

She emerged from the bedroom.

“Please take this opportunity to bathe and change into fresh clothes.”

She eyed the bathroom. 
What if he comes back while I’m naked?
  She was filthy, however.  The brief cold shower she’d been allowed to take at the hospital hadn’t been enough to clean off her slave-compound grit.

She went into the shower beside the tub and washed speedily.

When she emerged (feeling refreshed) she found Diplomo seated stiffly on the large couch.

“I would prefer you wait until your master returns to eat.”

She sat down beside him.  “Okay.”  Her stomach was too wound up with nerves for her to be hungry anyway.  She let her self sink into the cushions and within minutes fell fast asleep.

*

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*

Her master was a burly lumberjack in her dream, complete with a Quebec accent.  He saw her and gleamed with a lascivious smile.  Then he became cartoon like, calling her his lovely pigeon and smothering her with kisses.  She responded like a cartoon damsel in return, shoving him away weakly, while being stirred by his embrace.  Soon she was beneath him, flushed, and illogically enamored.  His hot mouth sealed over hers.  His hands stroked her small breasts.  Tabitha let herself become swept away.

The sound of the door woke her before she could try to process what she had dreamed.  She scrambled to her feet instinctively.  Diplomo followed.  Then
he
appeared, the man who would be her master.

He said something with a strong deep voice.  The words were alien gibberish.  Diplomo answered him in the same tongue. 

Tabitha absorbed her master’s features as they spoke.  He had the same reddish-purple alien coloration she’d seen from her foremen at the compound.  Most of his flesh was bare.  He had a breastplate over his bare chest, black pants, and a close-fitting cap with a black cloth draping down behind it.  His thick shoulders and neck muscles were uncovered.  He was like a barbarian, or a body-builder.  Tabitha estimated him at well over six feet tall.

The alien removed his breastplate.  Tabitha saw pectorals that were probably bigger than her breasts.  Diplomo began to answer again, but was cut off.  The alien raised a hand to silence him while approaching her.  The hair on the back of Tabitha’s neck pricked up.

He brought his dark-skinned hand to her face, cupping her cheek with his palm.  He said something to Diplomo while locking their eyes.

“He asked if you want to be here.”

She broke from his severe gaze.  “Yes.  I do.”

Diplomo translated.  The alien glided the hand down her sensitive throat while speaking again.  Tabitha realized she was trembling.

“He asked if you understand your purpose here.”

She winced and lowered her head to nod.  The alien’s hand moved away from her.

“He asked if you’re scared.”

“Yes.  I’m scared.”

She saw her master’s shoulders rise and fall with a deep breath.

“Why doesn’t he speak English?”  The question was foolish even to her ears.  There was no reason for him to know her language, but for some reason all the Hax-Rah she’d been exposed to so far spoke English.  She presumed he would too.

“He did not accept the language chip provided to him,” Diplomo said.

This stirred a vague memory from when she was first enslaved.

The alien said something.

“He wishes to know if you were tortured.”

She swallowed.  “I was.  At the slave compound.”

The alien sighed a second time.  Then he said something quick and derisive and went into the bedroom.  He shut the door.

Tabitha blinked a few times.  She actually thought things went well.  The touching was fine, wasn’t it?  Not too intrusive, and exactly what she’d expect from a master in this situation.  The whisper of his hand was still tingling on her throat.

“What’s going on?” she said to Diplomo.

“He stated that he never wanted a war concubine and had canceled you.”

Tabitha felt a trickle of ice down her spine, then numbness.  She wasn’t sure how to feel about this.

“Why?” she said. 

“He said it’s too dangerous here.  However, he also said you were beautiful, and appeared stricken by that.  I believe he may change his mind.”