The Iron Maiden (8 page)

“Your facial scars help. Do not cover them. But your hair must change.”

Spirit submitted to a crude haircut. Brinker was good at making her into a boy; no one would know, if she did not give herself away.

“What is your prime desire in life?” Brinker asked.

“To reunite with my brother,” Spirit said immediately.

“Give me your complete loyalty, and I will allow that, at such time as it is feasible.”

Spirit didn't trust this. “You already have power over me. What else do you want?”

“You have rare nerve for one your age. I want to be able to trust you, so that I need never kill you.”

“I gave my word!” Spirit said angrily.

“Your brother is a man of honor. Are you the same?”

Spirit had to think for a moment. “I guess not. I'm still learning from him.”

“So your honor needs buttressing by motive. I will help you search for your brother, and let you go to him when you find him. No one else will do that. Your best interest is to see that I am not betrayed before you find him.”

Spirit nodded. “It's a deal.”

“There is a second destruct switch. This one you may access.” She opened a cabinet to show a small unmarked lever. “If I face mutiny, you will bargain on my behalf as you did on your brother's behalf.”

“But that was a setup! We had already made the deal.”

“But you could have destroyed the ship.”

It had been a deal, but no bluff. Brinker was giving her similar power. "If you face mutiny, I will bargain.

If you lose, I will destroy the ship."

“That suffices. What shall we call you.”

Spirit didn't hesitate. “Sancho.”

*

Thereafter Spirit quickly fell into the routine as cabin boy. She carried messages for the captain, and did chores. When the pirates went after booty, she was locked in a supply chamber, because the men did not trust her out of the ship. They teased her, sometimes cruelly, but only verbally or by arranging for her to foul up; there was a do-not-touch order on her, and they knew better than to violate that. So they confined themselves to words, and to musings about the taste of some men for boys rather than girls, and what would the precious lad do when he grew hair on his balls and was no longer appealing? She tolerated it, satisfied that they were off the mark.

Once a man asked her directly what use the captain had for her. She had rehearsed an answer, and gave it with just the right amount of awkwardness: “I knew when he spared my life it wasn't just because he wanted a cabin boy. So whatever he does once or twice a week, I keep my mouth shut.”

“Or open?” he asked with a leer.

The implication was oral sex. She did not refute it. “Whatever he wants.”

Naturally the word circulated. It didn't bother either Spirit or the captain. But the fact was that Captain Brinker had no apparent interest in sex of any kind. Spirit, in contrast, did. She thought a lot about what she had done with Hope, that single night, and wondered whether it would be like that with any man, or only with Hope. As her breasts and hips expanded, making concealment more difficult, she regretted that she could not be a woman. She wanted to complete her education in that respect, and find out what it was all about. But that would have to wait.

The captain did not abuse her. Everything was by the book, in the tradition of the navy the captain had abandoned when she and her crew turned pirate. That did not mean Spirit liked her; the memory of the fate of the last six children remained with her. But Spirit knew that her situation was quite good, considering the alternatives. She was alive, and treated well, and she had a hope of getting back together with her brother someday. That was what sustained her.

After several months, the captain issued her a laser pistol. She practiced diligently with it, and it was soon apparent that she had excellent control and aim. Now the teasing by the men abated, as her technique was reminiscent of that of the captain.

The Hidden Flower was fortunate to obtain a replacement lifeboat from one of its salvage ships. Captain Brinker had been uneasy without one, but a pirate vessel could not simply requisition such equipment.

The Flower had a specialty business: handling sexual feelie chips. Feelies were shows recorded in three dimensions, to be played on special helmets that enabled the wearer to be in the scene. The helmets interacted with the trace electric fields of the brain, evoking the senses of sight, sound, smell, and touch. It was very effective; a walk in a flower garden seemed completely real. Naturally what the pirate ship handled was of another nature. Deviant sex was a popular subject, and the market for this was brisk, so this trade was the main source of income for the ship. Most of the feelies were made in private studios on the major planets, but The Hidden Flower had some editing capability, and put its own brand names on particular lines.

True to her word, Spirit presented a notion to the captain. “I don't know where my brother is, but I want to let him know I'm all right. Maybe I can do it through the feelies. Is this okay, as long as it doesn't get the ship in trouble?”

“What do you propose to do?”

“To set up a brand called THE EMPTY HAND, with a picture of an empty hand to illustrate it. To put titles on individual chips that he will recognize, such as the name of our father, mother, sister, and his girlfriend.”

“You think you can edit feelies?”

“I think I can learn.”

“The mechanics are easy. It's the content that can make a female blush.”

“So I'm female, and only twelve. I've seen plenty already.”

“Show me your power.”

“Sir?”

Brinker smiled thinly. “It's a Navy term. It means to demonstrate what you can do. Show your competence. Impress me, if you can.”

Spirit got into it with a will. She viewed hundreds of feelies, and zeroed in on those calculated to appeal most strongly to sex-hungry men. Because she was not a man, she was relatively objective. At first she found some of them shocking, especially the sado/maso or weird animal liaisons, but soon enough they became dull in their repetition of what was, after all, a straightforward act: copulation. Men did seem to have rather repetitive tastes. Spirit focused on the peripherals. She considered originality, artistry, humor, clarity, coherence, and theme, seeking some story value along with beauty of the women and virility of the men. She also had a special criterion: reverse roles, where men played the parts of women, and women of men. In the feelies that was sexual, so that male users could experience the sensations of women as they participated sexually. That made this line distinct from most others, so that it would not get lost in the welter of similar offerings. Her choices became the EMPTY HAND line.

It sold well. She did seem to have the touch, mainly because she was considering the larger picture. She continued with the line, giving the feelie participants names: Major, Charity, Faith, Hope, Helse. But not Spirit. That would give her away, and part of the point was that at such time as Hope discovered this series, the omission would tell him who was behind it. Meanwhile her position was secure; she was contributing to the welfare and comfort of the ship.

After a year she was allowed to go on salvage missions. One man was assigned to be her buddy; they would look out for each other while off-ship. She thought it was just a formality, but didn't object. His name was Bruiser, and he was a powerful man, but he had never razzed her. In fact he had quietly helped her on occasion, and seemed to be decent as pirates went.

“Why not?” she asked him as they suited up.

He knew what she meant. “I was second in line for your big sister,” he said. “I figure if we ever see her again, maybe you'll put in a good word for me.”

He didn't know that Hope was male; none of them did. They all watched the feelies, but had never made the connection to the one they knew as the boy Sancho. But she was touched, because it was evident that Bruiser didn't like beating on children, and was using this as a pretext. “I will,” she said.

They locked on to the derelict. All ships and bubbles this crew boarded were derelicts, even if they had not been prior to contact. This one contained a number of grotesque bodies. The pirates ignored them, being used to this, but Spirit thought again of the bodies of the children, and Helse before them.

This ship contained stores of spices, valuable on the black market. They carried the boxes into The Hidden Flower, where they would be sorted and indexed for marketing. There was a considerable trade among pirates, with different ships specializing in particular things. This one marketed whatever it found, and made a marginal living as such things went. The idea that all pirates had hoards of gold and rare liquor was false; most had mean existences, always with the threat of being blown apart by a Navy vessel that wasn't on the take.

When Spirit picked up the last box, something felt strange. Bruiser was on it immediately. He put his helmet to hers. “You got a pinhole leak! A splinter on that box.”

So she did; she could see the tiny vapor jet. He whipped out a patch and slapped it on her glove, but the seal was not complete; she was still losing air faster than her tank could replace it. She tried to hurry back to the ship, but the thinning air got to her, and she passed out. The last thing she was aware of was being picked up by her buddy. He flung her over his shoulder and charged back.

When she recovered, she was in the spare bedchamber, her suit was off and she was breathing from an oxygen mask. Bruiser was staring down at her. “Kid, I didn't know,” he was saying. “The captain was busy, so I just got to work to get you breathing again. If I'd a known, I'd've covered for you, buddy style.”

That was when she realized that in his haste to get her out of the suit for resuscitation, he had dislodged her shirt and chest binding. Her breasts were showing, and they were no longer token.

Captain Brinker appeared. She appraised the situation in an instant. “Damn! Now I'll have to share her.”

Spirit was still woozy, with a headache. But she knew what was required. "I guess you will, sir.

Make--make Bruiser the first. I owe him." Then she passed out again.

The captain compromised by setting up a weekly raffle. Sancho would remain officially male, but the winner of the raffle would have him as a woman for one hour alone. The rest of the time Sancho still belonged to the captain. Anyone caught referring to Sancho as female would be eliminated from the raffle. The first winner was declared to be Bruiser. No one argued with that; he had earned it by saving her, and by revealing her, however inadvertently. For regular sex there was the whore they had installed; this was special sex, higher class. Not only did they know and respect Spirit as a good worker with uncanny aim with a laser, she was considerably cleaner and prettier than the whore, apart from her scars.

Privately the captain was grim. “Damned bad break! A splinter!”

“I'm not sure I could have hidden much longer,” Spirit said. She was now thirteen, and her breasts were almost full.

“Maybe not,” Brinker agreed. “Can you handle it?”

“I think so. If there's no violence.”

“We'll post rules of the game: no violence, no perversions, just the straight goods. For perversions, they can continue to use the feelies.” Then she paused, thinking of a better variant. “Make it your choice. He gets the hour, you choose the type and position. I don't want you spoiled for my own pleasure.”

“Yes,” Spirit agreed.

“But you will have to perform. Some of those brutes are so horny they'll do it six times in that hour. You can't tell them no.”

“I'll find six positions,” Spirit agreed with a wan smile. “I'd better practice them now.”

Brinker described a considerable assortment of what should be acceptable positions. She knew about sex, and must have had experience; she just didn't care for it. They were all variants of what were called the front and back positions, augmented by oral sex, which was also of two kinds: male mouth or female mouth. “You've got to do it, because they think you've been doing it all along.”

Spirit agreed. She had of course seen much more in the feelie chip sequences, but this time it was personal. She rehearsed exactly how it and other sexual exploits were done. It didn't look great to her, but surely wasn't as bad as eating human flesh had been. She was ready; she would surely improve with practice.

The hour came. She entered the bedroom chamber that she and Hope had first used. This time she really was taking his place--but now she was far better prepared for it, in flesh and mind. She didn't expect it to be bad, because she had control, and she knew all the men of the ship, whose attitudes had changed significantly since they learned her gender. There would be no rape and no sex with strangers; in fact there would be nothing she did not choose, so long as she did choose often enough.

Bruiser was there. He was standing, and clothed. “Kid,” he said awkwardly. “If you don't want to do this--”

“You saved my life. You earned it.”

“I woulda done that anyway, buddy style. I never knew--I mean, I thought your sister--”

She realized that this hulk of a man was being diffident. He had been decent throughout the past year, which was why he had been assigned to be her buddy on the mission. Brinker had known that he would do his honest best to safeguard her welfare. He wasn't shy about sex; he was lusty enough with the whore. It wasn't her age, because the whore was hardly older; the men didn't care about age as long as the grown body was there. But Bruiser knew Sancho as a person, and this complete shift was evidently awkward for him.

“You figure you didn't agree to be my buddy to get sex from me,” she said.

He looked at the floor. “Yeah. Even if I'da known. I mean--”

“We both know I'll be doing it with the whole crew before I'm through,” she said. "One hour a week.

Some of the men I don't like, but when they win, I'll give them their hours. But you I asked for, to be first, because you are my buddy, and I know you wouldn't hurt me."

“Yeah. Still--”

She was actually going to have to seduce him! Because she did want him to be first, so that she could do a favor for a decent guy before she had to do favors for the bad ones. “Come on, Bruiser. I know I won't be very good at this, but I've got to learn, and I'd rather learn from you.”