Page 27 of Redeeming Captivity (Human Pets of Talin #7)
Chapter 27
Tarquin
“Where is Lena?” Holian asked as Tarquin walked up to him in the hall.
“Nalia is showing her around the ship,” he explained. “I think she also wanted to give her some clothes and other human essentials.”
“That’s good,” Holian agreed. “It didn’t look like you had many things when you arrived.”
“She had nothing when I got there,” Tarquin said, remembering the bare cage. “Nothing but a bed on the floor. It wasn’t even a bed, just a thin mat and a blanket. That was only what I saw, but so much more happened to her. I hope someday she’ll be able to share all her trauma with me, but she was badly abused, Commandant.”
For a moment Holian’s shoulders slumped, as if he was shouldering a vast weight.
“We should’ve checked on her sooner and more often,” Holian murmured. “There are so many I worry about, both humans and Talins.”
“You’re not responsible for everyone,” Tarquin said gently.
“They might not be part of my official duty, but they still rest on my conscience,” Holian responded. Pulling in a deep breath, he straightened his shoulders. “Have the two of you decided where you’ll settle? We’re on our way to Kalor to drop off supplies but the next stop is Sorana. You have your choice of homes ready to occupy at either place.”
“That’s what I wanted to talk to you about,” Tarquin said. He paused, searching for the best way to talk about the delicate topic.
“Don’t worry about picking your words carefully,” Holian said. “Simply say it. I don’t have time for prevarication or politicking.”
Tarquin sounded a rumble of affirmation. “Yes, sir. I’m not sure we’ll be living on either colony. I think Lena is set on leaving the empire.”
Holian’s response shocked him.
“I don’t blame her,” Holian said.
“You don’t?” Tarquin said. “You’re not worried about what will happen if I break the law by taking Lena out of the empire?”
Although Holian didn’t make a sound, Tarquin got the impression he was amused by the question. “Aren’t you breaking the law now? If I’m not mistaken, you scent-bonded with her. Which law carries worse consequences, scent-bonding to a human, which most would say is impossible, or running away with one?”
Tarquin blinked, then sounded a rumble of amusement. “Scent-bonding is a death sentence; leaving the empire with a human is a fine and imprisonment.”
“So I’ve made my point,” Holian said. “Do you have another concern besides which law you should be more afraid of breaking?”
“Don’t you have an objection to my leaving?” Tarquin asked, feeling a little dismissed. “I’d be leaving you too.”
“I’d miss you,” Holian answered. “But I shouldn’t be part of your decision. You paid your debt to me by going to Wulnum. I sent you into grave danger that you barely survived. I couldn’t ask more of anyone under my command.”
“But I’m your son,” Tarquin reminded him.
“Which is even more reason for me to urge you to make choices best for you and Lena,” Holian responded. “My wish is for everyone under my command or protection to find happiness. Where they find it doesn’t matter, only that they have it.”
This conversation wasn’t going at all like he expected.
“We are a dying species,” Holian said. “That’s why—”
His words pulled a shocked rattle out of Tarquin, interrupting Holian mid-sentence. “What do you mean by that?”
“You didn’t know?” Holian said. “I guess we’ve been busy, and it’s not a topic you bring up over the evening meal. Our numbers have been steadily declining over the last two decades. At first it wasn’t noticeable, but over the last four solars it’s caused concern within the Cresh Commission, Council for Population and Statistics, and the Lineage Committee. Those oversight and governing bodies are considered of low importance so no one pays any attention to them, but the numbers in their reports are startling. Even though the Cresh Commission has increased the building of creshes by 145 percent, they can’t keep up with the population decline. Our deaths outnumber our births by a significant amount.”
“We lose that many lives to war?” Tarquin asked.
“Our wars take a toll, but the Fading is worse,” Holian said, naming the deadliest disease among Talins. Until recently, it had a 99.9 percent death rate.
“But there’s a cure for the Fading now,” Tarquin protested.
“The shame is so great that most families hide away those suffering until they’ve died instead of bringing them to Lasha’s clinic,” Holian said. “It's not only adults who are dying, it’s children too. More and more creshes are reporting deaths due to Fading.”
Tarquin couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “Children? That can’t be right.”
“If this trend continues, and many at the Cresh Commission think it will, we’ll see a significant population drop by the end of my lifetime.”
It was unbelievable. “The Talin Empire is one of the most powerful in the known universe, how could we be felled by a disease?”
“Easily,” Holian said. “The disease is ignored by our leadership and citizens. It always amazes me how many species can assign moral beliefs to biological diseases, but that’s what we’ve done and it’s killing us. As long as Fading comes with the stigma of being weak-willed, individuals, families, and governments won’t bother with studying it. We only ended up with Lasha’s clinic out of sheer good luck and several Talin healers too stubborn to listen to everyone else. Still, her clinic is only one place of recovery within a sea of sickness.”
More than ever, Tarquin understood why Holian was always so busy and seemed under constant stress. It wasn’t as simple as foiling an insurrection or civil war. He needed to change Talin society from the ground up.
Stopping a war would be easier!
“The children born on Sorana and Kalor give me hope,” Holain said, his voice going soft with fondness. “Even if the worst happens and our empire rips itself apart, I’m sure we can rebuild into something stronger because our people are more resilient.”
Tarquin saw it now. Kalor and Sorana weren’t just safe havens for Talins and humans, they had the potential of being the heart of a new empire.
“I don’t want to leave.” The words left his mouth without conscious thought. He wanted to be part of Holian’s plans. He wanted to be there for the families and communities Holian had helped build and protected.
“It’s not your choice to make,” Holian said. “You and Lena have to decide together.”
“I know, but at first I thought I was reluctant because of the laws and the danger,” Tarquin said, seeing his feelings in a new light. “But now I know the truth. I’m not ready to give up on the empire yet.”
“You don’t have to,” Holian said. “There is a lot you can do for me outside the empire’s boundaries. Leaving the empire doesn’t mean you can’t still help.”
What Holian was saying was true, but it wasn’t what Tarquin wanted. He didn’t want to live among another species on a distant world. He wanted to live among humans and Talins. He wanted to see children and babies. He craved community.
But he couldn’t force Lena.
“I’ll talk to Lena,” Tarquin said.
“You have time,” Holian reminded him. “We’ll be on Kalor for several days before leaving for Sorana. If Sorana is still too much in the empire for Lena, we can take her to Delorta space. One of their planets is sparsely populated. It’s cold but within human tolerance, and they’re a kind species.”
“I’ve heard stories from Nalia,” Tarquin said with a rumble of affirmation. “That might be a good alternative. Thank you for your gift of time and skill, Commandant Holian.”
“Don’t be so formal, Tarquin,” Holian said, humor returning to his voice.
“Thank you, Father,” Tarquin said, feeling all kinds of happiness at getting to use the word.
“Thank you, son,” Holian responded. “Remember, no choice you could make will ever disappoint me.”
Lena
“I don’t think we were supposed to hear that,” Nalia said, looking nervous.
Lena stood frozen, her arms full of things Nalia had given her. She should give the woman a reassuring smile or some other gesture that would shrug off the conversation they’d overheard between Holian and Tarquin, but she couldn’t.
It wasn’t that she was upset exactly, it was that she had a lot to think about. Her brain was whirling with everything she’d learned, and she wasn’t sure how to process it all.
“You know, we don’t have to go straight back to bay three,” Nalia said.
Lena shook her head. She was already starting to feel antsy from spending time in Nalia and Derani’s cabin.
“I don’t mean we need to go to the galley or back to my cabin,” Nalia explained quickly. “We could go to bay one. It’s full, but the way everything is stored makes it still feel really open. It’s full of type-seven grave pushers. They have narrow bases and really wide tops so they kind of look like branchless trees.”
Lena wasn’t sure, but she didn’t object right away, giving Nalia time to keep pitching her suggestion.
“We could hang out there, have some tea, and you could ask me questions. I’ve been traveling around the Talin Empire for a while now. The only human who probably knows more than I do about the laws and politics is Lakin. She’s not here, so you're stuck with me.”
Then Nalia hit her with an offer she couldn’t say no to.
“You can ask me anything, and I’ll give you a totally honest answer including any bad aspects,” Nalia said, her expression going serious. “You deserve that.”
Lena nodded and Nalia led her through the ship. Soon they were in bay one and Lena was able to relax a little as they walked into the large space.
Nalia’s description had been apt, the type-seven grave pushers did look a little like trees, stretching high into the bay’s ceiling. There weren’t any tables or chairs, but Nalia led her to a stack of cushions set against a wall.
“These were left behind at one of our drop offs,” Nalia explained, grabbing a few cushions for each of them and setting them an acceptable distance apart. Lena only sat down after Nalia did. “They’re seat cushions for individual automatic inner-city transports. I don’t know how they didn’t get offloaded, but no one ever contacted us, so they must’ve either thought they weren’t supposed to have them or figured something else out.”
Lena settled all the items she was holding onto the floor between her feet, careful to keep them in a neat pile in case she had to scoop them up and run again. She still felt edgy and wanted to get back to the rest of her stuff in bay three, but it wasn’t so bad that she couldn’t spend a little time with Nalia.
Especially if it meant understanding the conversation between Tarquin and Holian better.
Reaching behind her, she pulled out the information square she’d gotten into the habit of tucking into the back of the rope belt she refused to give up. She was quick to type out her first question and turn the pad for Nalia to see.
“What’s Fading?” Nalia read, then sat back with a little sigh. “I wish I had something stronger than tea. Except we don’t even have tea right now. Right, okay, Fading. You already know it’s a disease from Tarquin and Holian’s conversation. It’s kind of like depression for Talins. They stop eating, stop working, and eventually they lay down and die. It’s not quick though. They can linger for a long time because Talin bodies are really efficient, you know? I visited Lasha’s clinic on Talarian once. I didn’t know a Talin could look so,” Nalia paused, searching for a word, “fragile.”
Lena couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Fear made her fingers shake a little as she typed again then turned the square.
Nalia read then shook her head. “Tarquin can’t get it, he has you. No one wants to admit it, but Fading happens because Talins aren’t allowed to scent-bond anymore. You two are scent-bonded partners, so he’s safe. He could suffer from Ending if you guys are separated for too long though. I forget what the clinical name for that is, but I guess it’s a really painful way for a Talin to die.”
Lena stared wide-eyed at Nalia, startled at this new information.
“I wouldn’t worry about that,” Nalia said quickly. “It takes a while. He’s not going to slip into Ending because you guys are apart for a few marks. Actually, the time you can be separated is different for each couple, but it’s probably best not to test it. A rotation is fine, several rotations would definitely be bad.”
Tarquin hadn’t just tied his happiness to her, he’d tied his life!
“You were raised among the Talins, right?” Nalia asked. Lena nodded. “How do you not know this stuff?”
“Because she didn’t mix with a lot of other humans,” Jinna said, walking through the still open bay door. “Anyone want some dorine brandy?”
Nalia gave a little shout of delight. “You have the best timing ever!”
Jinna grinned as she strode over and took a seat on the cushions Nalia grabbed for her. Jinna set three small glasses down on the floor, poured brandy into them, then passed them out.
This was the first time Lena had ever had alcohol. Her owners drank it occasionally and Jafinium had consumed it almost every day, but as a human, she was never offered any.
“To some Veli traders who thought my beads were real jefera stones,” Jinna said, holding up her glass. “Otherwise we wouldn’t have this very expensive brandy to enjoy.”
Lena held her glass up and out as the other women did, then brought it to her lips and took a big swallow. The liquid burned all the way down her throat and exploded in her empty belly. She hunched over and started coughing uncontrollably. She managed to set the glass down without spilling it, even though her eyes were watering.
She heard Nalia gasp and Jinna say something. She couldn’t make out the words; she was too busy trying to breathe! Then someone was rubbing her back and someone else was trying to get her to sip something else. She tried to refuse, but then she tasted water and drank greedily.
When the coughing subsided and she could pull air in again, she looked up to see both Jinna and Nalia watching her with twin expressions of concern.
“You’ve never had hard liquor before, have you?” Nalia asked.
“She’s probably never had any alcohol at all,” Jinna said, kneeling down next to Lena. “I’m an idiot!”
“How is that even possible?” Nalia asked, looking adorably bewildered. “Even the poorest human community brewed some kind of rotgut.”
“She was born as a pet,” Jinna said as Nalia knelt next to her. “I can’t imagine any Talin owner giving their human something as toxic as alcohol.”
“It’s not toxic,” Nalia protested.
“It’s not healthy,” Jinna said with a small laugh.
“Toxic,” Lena croaked out, rubbing the tears out of her eyes. “Awful!”
“It’s an acquired taste,” Jinna said.
Lena wrinkled her nose. She was fine without acquiring it, thank you very much!
Nalia unclipped her Ident. “Let me ask Orbian to send a bot with some Delorta tea and snacks.”
Both sounded good to Lena. She’d grown fond of the tea, and the brandy wasn’t sitting comfortably in her empty stomach. It wasn’t long before a delivery bot wheeled into the room, laden with far more tea and food than the three of them could ever consume in one sitting.
“Typical,” Jinna said, pulling one of the trays off the bot and setting it on the floor between them. Nalia grabbed the tea and poured it out into handleless mugs, passing the first one to Lena.
Taking a cautious sip, Lena found the familiar tea soothing on her throat. Much better!
Nibbling on some of the food, she listened to Jinna and Nalia talk about the Bountiful and her cargo. It was nice to sit with these women as if they were old friends. As the two chatted, her eyes were drawn to their collars. She’d worn one without care for years, but the idea of putting one on now made panic build in her chest. Yet these women, born into freedom, wore the collars without issue.
It boggled her mind.
“Lena, is something wrong?” Nalia asked. “You’re scowling at me.”
Lena shook her head and forced a smile to her lips.
“She wasn’t frowning at you,” Jinna said. “She was staring at your collar.”
“Oh, did you want to look at it?” Nalia asked, reaching up and pressing her thumbs awkwardly to either side of the latching mechanism. After only a micromark it clicked, and she took it off and held it out to Lena.
Startled, Lena took it. “How?”
Nalia laughed. “We can all take our collars off at will. I don’t think any of us would wear them otherwise.”
This was the difference between them, Lena realized. She’d been a literal pet and the collar was a sign of ownership. These women were only pretending and their collars were nothing but props.
This was how her fellow humans could stand to live within the Talin Empire; they were playing a part.
The more she thought about it, the more she saw that their Talin partners were doing the same. It was all subterfuge. The owner-pet facade was there to hide the love these couples shared. They were the true rebels and she loved them for it.
She handed the collar back. Nalia clipped it back in place, then went back to eating as if the whole thing hadn’t been a mind-altering experience for Lena.
She wasn’t sure she could stay, but her mind wasn’t so set on leaving either.