Page 18 of Journey to the Forbidden Zone
“I’m afraid I have little more information than you, Captain,” Mila replied, an apologetic note in her tone. “I entered a Kovoid hibernation chamber back on Lintensia. I was to be delivered to a courier in UPA space, who would then conduct me to my eventual master.”
“Master,” the dark-skinned human spat.
“When I awoke,” Mila went on, ignoring the comment, “I assumed the transit had been completed successfully. But Zed informs me that is not the case.”
“You mean you were sold,” the dark-skinned human said. “Like chattel.”
“The term, ‘sold,’ implies a transfer of ownership, which is accurate in the contractual sense,” Mila answered, turning her head slightly towards her. “I am Harimi. My service was contracted to a UPA official in exchange for a substantialsettlement paid to my Kovoid rights-holder for the benefit of my family, securing their well-being. It is a voluntary and honorable tradition among my people.”
A stunned silence followed her words. The Sensoori male gaped. The Collectivist’s expression remained impassive, but a slight tightening around his eyes suggested analysis. The second human looked horrified. Only Captain Díaz’s intense stare didn’t change, though Mila thought she saw a muscle jump in the woman’s jaw.
“‘Voluntary’?” The dark-skinned woman leaned forward, her voice rising. “‘Honorable’? How can selling yourself into slavery be honorable?”
The word, “slavery,” hung in the air. Mila felt a flicker of mild surprise. The human’s reaction was disproportionate, passionate, misinformed. She kept her voice level, patient.
“The concept may be unfamiliar. On my world, XenX are citizens under Kovoid governance. Our opportunities are limited. When my father lost his position and faced debtor’s labor camps, along with my younger littermates, the path of Harimi offered a solution. My service provides security and comfort for my family. It is a duty I chose freely. There is dignity in that choice, in ensuring their survival.”
She saw Díaz shift slightly. The captain’s fingers, resting on the tabletop, had curled into loose fists. Her knuckles were white. Anger? Frustration? Mila couldn’t quite decipher the emotion, but the intensity of it was palpable.
“Kovoid governance?” The Collectivist spoke for the first time, his voice as calm and precise as Zed’s, but warmer, organic. “The Kovoids rule your planet?”
“They control commerce, governance, and most institutions,” Mila explained. “XenX culture is permitted to continue in exchange for subservience. We are citizens, but of a lower class. Becoming Harimi for off-world patrons is one of thefew avenues that allows us to significantly improve the lives of our families. It is a recognized, respected role within our societal structure.”
“Respected?” the Sensoori squeaked, his orange skin paling. “But … you’re property! They can do anything they want with you!”
His fear seemed momentarily eclipsed by horrified fascination. Mila offered him a small, reassuring smile. She understood his confusion. His species clearly valued individual autonomy highly.
“My well-being is an asset to my patron. It is in their interest to maintain it.”
She paused, sensing the depth of their discomfort.
“I understand this is difficult for you to comprehend. Our cultures value different things. We XenX view sex as the highest pursuit for an individual. Choosing Harimi allows us to pursue this ideal. And by acquiescing completely to another being’s desires, by allowing them to fulfill the depths of their imagination, both parties achieve the ultimate pleasure and purpose in this life.
“For me, the ability to secure my family’s future, as well as attain the ultimate heights of sexual satisfaction, outweigh personal autonomy. It is a choice I make willingly. Proudly.”
The other human made a low sound in her throat, shaking her head.
“It’s still wrong,” she said.
Mila met her gaze steadily.
“Perhaps from your perspective. From mine, it was a legitimate and culturally significant path that offered safety and security for my family.”
She turned her attention back to Díaz. The captain hadn’t taken her eyes off her. That intense scrutiny was unnerving, yetintriguing. There was a rawness to this woman, a tightly leashed energy that resonated on a level Mila hadn’t expected.
“Captain Díaz, I appreciate the unexpected nature of my presence aboard your vessel. I understand this places you in a difficult position. But could you please confirm that I am indeed in UPA space?”
“You are,” Díaz answered, arching her eyebrows in surprise.
The tiny flicker of hope in Mila’s chest grew. Desperate for her family’s security, she asked the question that would guarantee it.
“And I was in UPA space when I was placed aboard your vessel?”
“Yes,” the captain answered. “Why?”
“Because if that is the case, then the obligation of my Kovoid broker to deliver me is fulfilled. His part of the agreement was to deliver me into UPA space. My placement upon your ship after arriving here is not his fault.
“However, having held up his end of the bargain to my prospective master, his obligation to my family is now binding. He will ensure all of their financial needs are taken care of. My family’s prosperity is assured.”