The Iron Maiden (15 page)

Bloodstone bellowed out his laughter. “Listen, you juvenile slut, when I clean up Straight's mess I'll screw you to the damn bulkhead. You never had a real man before.”

“I never had a man at all,” she responded. “Only with my knife. You have one minute to surrender to the Jupiter Navy.”

Bloodstone just laughed coarsely, making obscene gestures with his hands.

The minute finished. Spirit signaled a technician.

The planetoid exploded. “We mined it,” Spirit explained.

Roulette watched the expanding ring of debris in the screen. “Beautiful,” she murmured, licking her red lips. “You really don't bluff, do you!”

“No,” Spirit agreed.

Soon came the next stage of the liaison with the Solomons: Hope's marriage to Roulette. This was a horrendous event, because he had to rape her, which he didn't want to do, and survive her knife attack.

But Isobel Brinker was firm: this was the only way to fashion an enduring alliance with a pirate band.

They rehearsed the abduction, with Juana playing the part of the bride. She was in a low-bodiced pink nightie that revealed somewhat too much of her lush torso, and when the light was behind her much of the material become translucent. Spirit and Emerald had presented Hope with a model who was guaranteed to turn him on, while being forbidden. She had a rubber knife to defend herself, but she was laughing so much she couldn't even threaten him with it.

Then came the rehearsal of the rape itself. Emerald played the part of the to-be-ravished bride. Spirit slipped the rubber knife to her. “You poor, innocent damsel,” she said in honey-drip tone. “I cannot stop my evil brother from this cruel assault, for I am only a woman, but at least I can give you some chance to defend your treasure.”

“Bless you, sister,” Emerald said, smiling maliciously. “I'll disembowel him!”

“Hey!” he protested.

But it was time for the humor to end. The threat was real, and Hope was all too apt not to take it seriously until too late, because of his crush on the wench.

“Roulette will use her knife,” Spirit reminded him. “Don't trust her for a moment, Hope; that's how she got her other two suitors. She's your enemy--until you conquer her.”

Despite their best intentions, it was hilarious. He managed to disarm Emerald, but she managed to seduce him, in a fashion. The staff, watching, critiqued the performance, to make sure he would be able to handle the real rape properly.

And of course the real rape, in the manner of a battle, turned out to be quite different from the rehearsal.

Spirit, in her ritual guise as secret friend, slipped Roulette a knife, a real one, in accordance with pirate protocol. The girl accepted it, handling it quite competently. But she looked doubtful. “I'm not sure this is smart.”

“Not smart?” Spirit hesitated to guess what she meant.

“Spirit, I like you. You've had solid pirate experience. I don't want to kill your brother.”

“He's a martial expert,” Spirit said. “He'll disarm you.”

“Maybe he could. But will he?”

“We have rehearsed him. He knows what to do.”

“He thinks it's a game.”

Spirit sat down beside her. “I know he does. He's not a rapist. Should we stop this?”

“Yes.”

“Then how will we make the alliance both our sides need?”

“Maybe we could get some other pirate girl. One who wouldn't really fight.”

“He's already smitten with you.”

“Damn it!” Roulette flared. “I'm trying to spare us disaster! That weakling's going to die.”

“If he does, we'll return you safely to your father.”

“You'll do that?”

“It's the protocol.”

“And you're tough enough to follow it to the letter.”

“Yes.” And she would, though her heart broke.

“I wish I could marry you.”

Spirit knew what Rue meant: that she had the iron gumption her brother lacked in this instance. “I wish I could rape you.”

Roulette turned, leaned into her, and kissed her on the mouth. Spirit accepted it--and caught the girl's knife hand as it moved. It was a feint, without real power, but move and countermove had been quick.

They understood each other. Were Spirit a man, she could indeed perform the rape.

“Look--you'll be witnessing it.”

“Yes, with video cameras. To prove you did not submit willingly.”

“Be there physically too. Then you can overpower me before he's dead. I'll make the first strike non-lethal.”

“No. It has to be played out straight, or it doesn't count. You know that.”

“It must be,” Roulette said sadly. “Once we engage, there'll be no stopping it.”

“Yes,” Spirit agreed. Then she stood and departed before her emotion overcame her. The girl had figured Hope correctly, and her chances of killing him were all too good, because he would hold back. It would indeed be better if Spirit could substitute for him, but she couldn't.

Then she went for the final session with Hope, to try to stiffen his spine. That was little comfort; he had somehow overlooked or blocked out the fact of the witnessing.

“What?”

“It's the pirate way, Hope. The groom's clan has to witness the victory, so that no one can claim he didn't perform. And if anything happens to the bride, I will be obliged to seek revenge--”

“You?”

“I gave her the knife, Hope. It's real; no rubber one this time. I'm responsible for her until you win her. So whatever you do, don't kill her, because if she dies and I don't kill you, her clan will be honor-bound to do it, and--”

He stared at her, suddenly knowing that she would do it. That might be a positive sign.

Spirit sent Isobel to talk to him, to impress on him the reality of the need. Then he called Straight, who advised him to strike fast and hard, and to give up the marriage if he didn't succeed in the first minute. He even put his wife Flush on, who clarified that she would never have respected Straight if he hadn't conquered her first. But Hope still seemed uncertain. Spirit dreaded the coming encounter.

The time came. They took their places in chairs set around the sides of the bride's chamber: Repro, Phist, Mondy, Emerald, and Spirit herself. Brinker operated the video camera, and Juana was in a corner making shorthand notes. The Groom's official witness team.

Roulette was beautiful as she sat on the bed; she wore a pale blue negligee that offset her red hair dramatically. Her tresses were artfully wild, making her resemble a waiting predator. Her figure was so full and lithe it would make any man pause, even the three male witnesses. In fact when Rue caught them looking, she opened her decolletage, giving them a better view of her fine breasts, and let her full thighs part. Repro and Mondy smiled briefly; Gerald blushed. Spirit appreciated the tease; the girl had some humor. Even Juana, a well formed woman, looked envious. Only Isobel was unmoved.

Spirit checked her watch. “Time.” The room darkened, though not completely; they had to be able to see the event.

Roulette got silently off the bed and went to stand beside the door panel, her knife ready. She intended to ambush him as he entered, and the witnesses could not interfere in any way.

The panel slid quietly open. There was a pause, then something entered rapidly. Roulette was on it, stabbing downward. Then a second form leaped through the door, caught her from behind, and rendered her unconscious with a neck strangle. She had fallen for the oldest trick in the book: a decoy shirt thrown in first. It was a good start.

Hope used the shirt to bind her wrists, then used the bed sheet to tie her ankles and tore off a section to gag her. She recovered consciousness quickly, but was helpless. She didn't even struggle; at this point it was useless. He had won the first round by abducting her.

They moved to the groom's quarters and took new chairs. Spirit untied the bride and restored her knife to her while Hope stripped. This was according to protocol; the bride had to be able to defend herself from the rape.

He approached her; she struck with the knife, and he disarmed her again. He let her go, and she went after him with nails and teeth. He nullified her again, and whispered something in her ear, then let her go.

She attacked again, but he caught up her negligee and entangled her in it, whispering to her again. He let her go once more.

The utter fool! He was playing with her.

And it cost him. She got her hand on the dropped knife, and this time she managed to graze his leg. Yet still he played, snatching parts of her negligee away as she slashed at him.

Then he turned strange. Oh, no! He was going into a madness vision. He stared at Roulette, muttering something. Then he approached her, neither feinting nor dodging, as if she were welcoming his embrace.

She stabbed him in the left shoulder. He merely shrugged as the blood flowed. She stabbed again, and this time the blood jetted; she had severed an artery. But he ignored it and closed for a kiss. She bit his lip, hard, but he remained as if it were a true kiss.

He had to finish it quickly, before he bled to death. Yet the blood no longer jetted.

After a moment he drew back, and the cloud left his face. “You stabbed me!” he exclaimed, perceiving the blood. “And you bit me!”

“Well, you hugged and kissed me!”

“And you're not Megan.” Then Spirit understood at least part of it: Megan was the other woman he thought he could love. He must have seen her in the vision.

“Who the hell is Megan?”

He struck her, a slashing openhanded blow across the side of the head. Her head rocked back, her mouth open, but he caught her again on the other side with a backhand. She fell on the bed, blinking.

“Who the hell are you?” he demanded.

And the blood stopped flowing from his wounds. They simply closed up, leaving only red scars. Roulette saw it, and her mouth hung open. It was as if she faced a bloodless ghost or zombie.

This was a side of Hope Spirit had never seen before. He had not returned to his normal self. The madness had taken over. It gave him weird control of his entire body.

“I never saw you like this!” Roulette gasped.

“You never saw me at all, you arrogant bitch!” he snapped. “You like me better now?” He jerked his right hand and forced her right hand to strike her face.

“You brute!” But it was neither fear nor horror that governed her now. Her tone was one of discovery and admiration. “Kiss me again; I won't bite!”

Was it another trick? She might be feigning surrender, hoping to recover the knife.

Instead Hope spat blood and saliva in her face. “I'd as soon kiss a snake!”

She shuddered, not with anger but with rapture. She spread her arms and her legs. “Do it now!” she breathed. “I can't fight you when you're like this. You're a real man after all!”

It seemed real. Now was the time for him to do it.

He drew away from her and stood by the bunk. “Look at me,” he said. “I don't want you. You're not Helse, you're not Megan. What good are you?”

“Revile me!” she whispered. “Hit me! Make me scream!”

“You aren't paying attention, you pirate slut,” he said. “Look at my member. You don't turn me on at all.”

And indeed he showed no sexual desire. “You have failed as a woman,” he told her.

Enraged as a woman scorned, she snatched the knife from the bed beside her. She pointed it at his groin.

“I'll cut it off!”

“Go ahead.” He raised his arms and set his hands behind his head, not retreating from her. The total fool!

And she couldn't do it. Spirit saw her shudder. Hope had entirely vanquished her.

But she had another ploy. Slowly she brought the blade to her own throat. “If you won't have me, no one will.”

“Spirit,” he said.

Oh, damn! But she had to play along. Spirit rose from her chair. “Yes, Hope.”

“If she dies, you are bound by honor to kill me.”

Spirit hesitated. She wanted to call a halt to this awful alternative, but she could not oppose her brother.

Especially when he was like this; she was in awe of him now. “Yes,” she whispered.

“Set the laser.”

Slowly she brought out her laser pistol, adjusted it, and aimed it at his face.

His eyes had never left Rue's. “You see we honor the pirate convention. Do you believe Spirit will kill me?”

Roulette turned her head a moment to gaze at Spirit's face. “Yes,” she breathed. “She doesn't bluff.”

“So you may safely kill yourself,” he continued. “You know you will be immediately avenged, and there will be no onus for your father to bear, no embarrassment to your clan.”

Roulette flung the knife away. “You bastard, you have mastered me! Finish it!”

And finally, as it were reluctantly, he did. Roulette made no resistance; rather, she cooperated vigorously.

He had not raped her body so much as her soul.

And when it was done, she demanded that the videos never be played, and the witnesses be silent. She and Hope had visible injuries; those would suffice to tell the story. This had been a rape like none other.

*

Thus was the alliance made. Roulette was assigned a song, “Rue” whose words suggested the wasting of women by men, and her nickname became The Ravished. She liked that. She was, as it turned out, a masochist; she could not truly turn on unless brutalized. Thus their marriage was an ongoing contest, as he tried to make her respond to gentleness, and she tried to make him treat her cruelly. Each seemed to be making progress with the other.

The fleets merged, and with Emerald's genius guiding them, they defeated the other pirates, band by band. Then, when they were on the verge of completing the cleanup of the Belt, there came the betrayal.

Gerald was the first to learn of it, and it appalled him. “What is it?” Spirit asked.

“I am ordered by the Jupiter authority to assume command of the Task Force and place your brother under arrest for insubordination and other charges.”

Spirit stared. “But he's guilty of none of that!”

He shook his head. “He is guilty of being too effective in fighting crime. Pirates have nerves extending to high places. I am in a position to know.”

For he had lost his own career that way. “Oh, no,” she breathed.