Page 40
The enforced sex hasn’t been easy on any of us, but I think I heard her crying while “completing the act” this morning. I feel powerless realizing there’s nothing I can do to help.
Paying little attention to anything but ideas of how to escape, I keep my pace brisk as an Urlut forces me down the hallways at gunpoint. While we hurry through the corridors, I notice every doorway and every turn as I look for crew I’ve never seen before.
If we were to stage a rebellion, we’ll need to know the guard-to-prisoner ratio. I forbid myself to even wonder if the others want to overthrow our masters. Rather than being negative, I force myself to focus on escape .
Yesterday, I wasn’t aware every male prisoner is a full-fledged, trained, powerful gladiator.
Zar explained this morning that the only thing they do all day every day is train and fight.
No wonder the Urluts are so quick to use shock collars on them.
Even though the guards are huge and armed to the teeth, it sounds like they would be no match for any of these warriors if they squared off in a fair fight.
My thoughts come to a halt as we arrive at medbay. Dr. Evil, who never introduced himself even though he was so insistent I give him my name, tries to get me up on the exam table as fast as possible.
I decide to converse, even if it is one-sided, the whole time I’m in the exam room. I want him to realize he’s hurting us women—that we’re real people with emotions. Maybe I can reconnect him to his desire to be a helping professional.
“So, assuming at one point you wanted to heal people, what happened to you? How did you wind up serving on a slave ship?” How’s that for getting right to the point?
He pats the table, looking resigned that I won’t jump right up. We’re having a stare-down. He sighs, shrugs, and for some unknown reason, answers me.
“Student loans.”
“Say what?”
“You’re right. I always wanted to be a physician, a healer. Medical training doesn’t come cheap. I didn’t want myself or my family burdened with my loans, so I accepted this job. It was supposed to be a quick one annum tour of duty with the Urluts on a transport freighter to erase all my debt.
“I was told I would tend the vessel’s crew. I never dreamed the ship would transport slaves. Or that it would involve…” He looks forlornly down at the speculum in his hand as if it’s the first time he’s ever seen one. “It was bait and switch, but the contract is ironclad. ”
Those deep-set, piercing blue eyes look haunted for the briefest moment. Then he’s patting the table again.
He paid the price for my cooperation today. After quickly shucking my PJ bottoms, I climb onto the table and slip my feet into the stirrups. How come they’ve invented space flight and they still can’t figure out a way to warm those things?
“What are you going to do when you’ve paid your debt?” I ask afterward while I shrug into my clothes. I’m still trying to figure out how to use this information to my advantage.
“Originally, I thought I’d go back to Dacia, my home planet. But they could charge me with war crimes for this. They’ll never allow me to return without harsh punishment.”
Whoa, for being the one in total control of this situation, he certainly looks powerless and forlorn.
“I guess we’re all prisoners in one way or another,” I add faintly.
He breathes a deep sigh. We both know we’ll be continuing this conversation tomorrow.
When I’m back in my cell, I have nothing to occupy my mind. I think it’s been two days since I was kidnapped, but now my old life seems far away. I guess it is far away. I don’t know much about space travel, but I’m guessing I could be millions of miles from Earth by now.
The call center where I worked has probably already sent me a termination notice via email for my two unexcused absences.
Kinda makes me all warm and fuzzy inside, thinking about my relationship with my former employers.
They didn’t have shock collars at my job, but it felt like a master/slave relationship in other ways.
My fists ball in anger at myself. I hated that crappy job.
Why was I sleepwalking through my life? How did my life get derailed?
I had plans to go to college after I moved away from home.
Instead, I accepted a shit job to ensure a steady income.
Before I realized, several years passed and I never enrolled in business school.
My plans for my future got hazier, and I got caught up in the treadmill of just getting by.
If I ever get back to Earth—like if this is a bad dream and I wake up any time soon—the first thing I’m going to do, if they haven’t already fired me, is quit that soul-sucking job and find something I’m passionate about.
I wonder if my parents and two sisters know I’m AWOL. My chin trembles as I realize they must be worried sick. What I wouldn’t give to Zoom with them right about now.
That’s a depressing thought, which is doing me no good. I will not allow myself to fall down that rabbit hole. Switching gears, I nod my head in determination. I need to figure out how to escape.
We might have a chance. After all, we have a cadre of trained fighters who probably all want to be free. There’s a ship’s officer who hates what he’s doing, and, of course, little telepathic Tyree.
After the guards transport us to medbay and back, they’re pretty scarce. There doesn’t seem to be a vast army of them on board, so they must be closely monitoring the gladiators and not bothering with us puny Earth women.
Gingerly fingering my shock collar, I decide to take a risk. Moving to the front of the cell next to boxer girl’s compartment, I whisper, “What’s your name?”
No answer. Also, no shock. So, emboldened, I ask more loudly.
“Shhhh,” is her only reply. Then, after a moment while she’s probably waiting to see if one of us gets zapped, she answers, “Grace.”
“I’m Anya. It’s nice to know your name. I was tired of calling you ‘Boxer Girl’ in my mind. ”
“I think of you as Moose,” she admits with a soft laugh. “I’m glad the doctor got me these clothes, even though I look like the doc’s Mini-Me in this rolled-up blue jumpsuit.”
“Yes, I was glad to see that. It must have been awful for you to have to walk around almost naked that first day.”
After pausing a moment while I wonder if I should mention my concerns, I barge ahead. “I’ve heard some… distressing noises from your cell. I’ve wondered if you’ve been crying. Is your guy treating you all right?” There is such a long silence I wonder if her collar’s been shocked.
“It’s awful,” her voice is rough with emotion.
I’m not surprised. From the sounds of things, I’d wondered if the guy with the red robotic eye had been considerate with her during our mandatory mating.
“Grace, I’m so sorry. Does he understand he’s scaring you? Hurting you?”
“He’s… I’m not sure if he has actual emotions other than anger.
We talk. When I told him it hurt, he slowed down.
I think he tried. He warns me they’ll punish us both if we don’t follow orders.
Maybe he thinks he’s protecting me in some crazy way.
I honestly don’t think he wants to hurt me. He’s just so… disconnected.
“I mean, have you seen his face? His arm? I’m not sure how much of him is human and how much is robot.”
“I don’t know how to help. Do you think my guy could talk to him at the ludus tomorrow? Urge him to be gentler? More considerate?”
“Anything’s worth a try.”
My head fills with selfish thoughts—like I’m so glad Zar has been kind. I try not to have any survivor’s guilt over my luck.
Luck, that’s a funny word to describe such an awful situation .
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