Page 9 of Seven Oars (Rix Universe #3)

It was the first real rest Rosamma had had since their capture. It mildly shocked her that she had been able to sleep so long and deeply with the pirates only a short distance away.

But she had slept. And now she could think much more clearly.

Her spirits were up, even as weakness began to creep in with her dwindling energy. Without a calendar, she sensed she still had time. A few weeks, at least. Maybe a month, if she was careful with rest and nutrition.

Anske was already munching on something, and Fawn was talking to Sassa about breakfast. It was calming and disconcerting at the same time, observing such a mundane scene: the women sitting on blankets, eating, talking. Alyesha was brushing her hair. Eze tinkered with the water tank filter, trying to get it running.

The sudden gurgle was followed by Eze’s satisfied exclamation. The filtration system came alive, shuddering and shaking the tank. A strong smell of rotten eggs spread through the room.

“Gross!”

“Eww!”

“What did you expect, a clear mountain spring?”

Eze spread her arms.

“No, but I guess we didn’t expect raw sewage either,”

Fawn said, disappointed.

“Well, this water is recycled. You know what it means?”

Fawn wrinkled her nose.

“I hope you don’t expect us to drink it, ‘cause our insides are gonna rot.”

“We still have potable water. But when that’s gone…”

Eze patted the water tank.

“This baby is it.”

“We will make every conceivable effort to get the hell out of here before the potable water runs out,”

Alyesha said with feeling.

The robot rolled up and paused at the door. The pirates probably knew by now that the filtration system in the Cargo Hold was operational.

After several filtration cycles, the water stopped smelling so awful. Fawn volunteered to be the first to take a shower.

“If I come out smelling like shit, I’ll bed down next to you in punishment, Eze,”

Fawn said, laughing.

They bantered a little, small, silly stuff that made Anske laugh.

Phex got up and moved around, testing his strength and finding it lacking. Yet he showed no frustration at the limits imposed by his many injuries. He displayed no worry or fear, leaving Rosamma in awe of his fortitude.

“You’re doing so much better! I hope the pirates are done with their stupid challenges,”

she said, trying to encourage him.

“Your hope is naive,”

he replied flatly.

“They keep me alive for one reason, and that is to beat me again.”

It was depressing.

There were degrees of being powerless, Rosamma thought. She’d been powerless before, unwell, conspicuous in appearance, confined to her apartment. In her darker moments, she had thought herself a prisoner.

She knew better now.

Back then, she had been loved, cared for, and protected.

Now, her helplessness was multiplied tenfold by cruelty and torment. No one cared what happened to her. Not even Phex, if she were completely honest with herself, which she chose not to be. It was easier to have an illusion.

So she clung to several. Chief among them was the hope that one day they would escape. She had to believe it. If she didn’t, the despair would kill her before her energy ran out.

Noticing her preoccupation, Phex stopped beside her.

“I know you’re frightened,” he said.

Her shoulders rose and fell.

“Of course I am.”

“Don’t be,”

he said, completely serious.

“Fear takes away your will.”

Rosamma managed a small smile.

“Fear is just a reaction to danger.”

“It makes you act unreasonably. Like going to the Habitat and having a bag placed over your head.”

“Well, I went because I felt guilty.”

Rosamma fidgeted with her braid.

“I said something stupid, and they were going to make you suffer for it. I’m very sorry.”

Phex resumed his slow pacing.

“Guilt’s bad, too. You have to stay sharp. Work on it. Work on your fear.”

His warrior mindset was admirable, if completely misplaced when applied to her.

“I will work on my fear, Phex,”

Rosamma promised, knowing that for her, his level of mental strength was as unachievable as his physical power.

Later, the women got together for a huddle, dragging the reluctant Phex into their group.

Alyesha held court.

“I’ve been thinking about what to do. We’ve got to have a plan. Something concrete. Something everyone can get behind and start working toward.”

Alyesha was right. Like Rosamma, the other women were unmoored, wondering if they had a future. It was eating away at their morale badly.

Phex shifted to find a more comfortable sitting position. His body was still stiff, but his facial swelling was subsiding, telling Rosamma that her precious energy had worked.

“The plan’s to send out a distress signal,”

he said, short-tempered.

“I told you that.”

“So you did. How are we going to do that?”

Alyesha asked.

“I don’t know yet. The emergency beacon would be at the Command Center.”

“We can create a distraction!”

Fawn exclaimed.

“Lure the pirates away from the Command Center. We can start a fire!”

Phex shifted again.

“I can name several problems with that plan.”

“No, listen, we have water in the filter tank,”

Fawn said quickly, caught up in her idea.

“We can put it out fast. It’s the perfect distraction! All the smoke…”

“Oh, shut up!”

Alyesha rolled her eyes.

“…the smoke will trigger the fire alarm,”

Gro pointed out, “long before they’d abandon their posts at the Command Center. Not to mention…”

“What?”

“How do you plan to start a fire?”

Fawn hadn’t thought that far ahead.

“He can help, the defender,”

she said sullenly.

Phex’s eyes were flat.

“You don’t want to involve us, do you?”

Rosamma asked quietly.

“It’s not that I don’t…”

“You don’t trust us.”

He focused on the women.

“It’s not about trust. It’s about skills.”

He didn’t spell out which skills, but it was clear enough. Fighting skills.

Gro smiled wryly.

“Don’t underestimate the motivation of desperate circumstances.”

But Phex wasn’t convinced.

“I need real strength. Tactical thinking. Courage.”

“Hey, we have plenty of courage!”

Eze argued.

Phex remained unconvinced.

“You tremble when you see a pirate coming. You cower when you’re yelled at. And you’re weak.”

None of them liked his unflattering assessment, yet none had a good response.

“You need to work with the people you’re given, Lieutenant Phex,”

Rosamma said gently.

“We aren’t Aris or Silo, but we’re not without merit. What can we do to help you send the signal?”

Radiating potent doubt about the “people he was given,”

Phex was about to speak when Alyesha’s eyes flashed with defiant light.

“How about we kill them first?”

Phex’s head jerked slightly.

“There are ten pirates,”

Alyesha said hotly. She’d clearly given the matter some thought.

“And there are nine of us. I say we each pick a victim, and Phex picks two. If we strike at the same time, we’ll have the station to ourselves.”

The idea energized Fawn.

“Bro, that’s so… bloodthirsty! I’m in.”

Phex closed his eyes, letting the discussion roll on without him.

The women chattered as the preposterous idea took root. The thought of having the station to themselves struck a chord, and they got on board with organizing a killing spree.

Wildly, Rosamma thought, Can I do it? Just once, for everyone’s sake, can I take a life that’s not worth living in the first place?

She mentally cycled through the pirates’ images, trying to pick a victim—and failing.

She imagined sticking a knife into a faceless pirate. Pictured the struggle, the blood, breath leaving his body.

The idea was inconceivable, abhorrent. She couldn’t, not even the scarred Striker, the one she resented most. The one who kept poor Father Zha-Ikkel in the Meat Locker.

“We don’t have any weapons,”

Eze pointed out.

“We will improvise,”

Anske exclaimed.

“We’ll make shivs from water pipes. Gro, you went to prison. You’ll teach us.”

Gro blanched.

“I was in minimum-security prison camps. I’ve never made a shiv in my life! That shit carries a serious sentence, and frankly, I never had a need.”

“What’s a Rix’s most vulnerable spot, Phex?”

“Go for the neck,”

Phex said tiredly, without opening his eyes.

“If you can catch one unaware, which you can’t.”

Fawn made stabbing motions near her neck.

Alyesha was undeterred.

“We’ll find a way.”

Gro raised an eyebrow.

“Wait. In your nine-on-ten scenario, you counted Daphne in. Who’s she gonna stab? Massar? Nud? Striker Fincros?”

Collectively, they turned to Daphne, who sat very quietly in a corner, flipping through the pages of a book.

“That’s… my Holy Guide!”

Anske jumped to her feet and crossed the room in two strides.

“Where did you get it?”

Daphne didn’t reply. She continued tracing pictures in the book with her finger, as if Anske didn’t exist.

“I’d like to have it back. Daphne, please?”

Anske extended a hand.

Daphne ignored it, just as she ignored the entire room full of people. Like she ignored the space station. Her attention was completely absorbed by the Holy Guide, and only she knew what she saw in its pages.

Eze stepped closer.

“She’ll give it back in a little bit. Let’s let her finish. You know how she gets when you take stuff away suddenly.”

“Let her wail, I don’t care!”

Anske snapped.

“I’ve been looking for my Holy Guide since before the pirates snatched us! She probably stole it back then.”

“Look at her. She just likes the colors, and these are so bright,”

Eze tried again to calm the situation.

But Anske stood firm.

“It’s not a children’s book. It’s a Holy Guide, and I need it back immediately.”

Tired of being ignored, she plucked the glossy book from Daphne’s hands.

Daphne raised her head and fixed Anske with a look—wide gray eyes, pretty like Mara’s had been, but utterly vacant. Her mouth quivered, turning down at the corners.

“Brace yourselves,”

Alyesha muttered, expecting loud wailing.

Instead, Daphne hissed like a furious cat and lunged at Anske. Her slim body launched forward with startling speed, taking the older woman down.

The Holy Guide hit the floor.

Anske screamed as Daphne bit her on the shoulder. Her deceptively thin arms broke through Anske’s defenses, clawing at her face, reaching for her eyes.

Eze scrambled behind them. Grabbing Daphne by the waist, she tried to pry her off, but Daphne gave a furious donkey kick, knocking Eze back.

“Help!”

Anske gurgled. Blood stained her embroidered shirt.

Daphne’s fist closed over Anske’s face, twisting her nose and cheek as if trying to tear them off.

“Daphne, no, stop it!”

Eze screeched.

“Look at the yellow square. Look! And the purple!”

She picked up the book, waving it around frantically. It didn’t work.

Rosamma jumped in, tugging.

Gro fell on Daphne’s legs, holding them down. Fawn grabbed her arms.

Together, they immobilized her, but not before she managed to bite Anske again.

Anske wailed, thin and pitiful.

The robot materialized in the Cargo Hold, bleeping about a disturbance.

Sassa cried out, while Alyesha cursed under her breath.

Then Phex’s broad, six-fingered hand grasped Daphne by the scruff and plucked the girl off Anske, shaking her hard.

“Please, don’t kill her!”

Eze cried.

Daphne inhaled sharply and wailed with a familiar, monotone cry. Her face was blotchy red, her eyes lost. A smear of Anske’s blood stained the side of her mouth.

Phex dropped her in disgust.

“What’s going on?”

Two pirates walked in—Ucai and Massar.

The women shrank back, pressing against the wall as if it could save them. Only Alyesha and Rosamma remained in the middle of the room. Alyesha stood tall, directly in the pirates’ path. Rosamma crouched over Anske, eyes darting around for something to bandage Anske’s shoulder with. She hesitated, wondering if tending the wound was worth the effort, or if the pirates would only make the damage worse in punishment.

“Hang in there, Anske.”

She took her hand, wishing again that her unique ability worked on humans.

“I’m dying! She killed me…”

Anske flailed her arms and legs.

In truth, Daphne’s blunt human teeth hadn’t inflicted mortal damage.

Massar seemed transfixed by the deep color of her blood.

“Tell me, defender,”

Ucai said, voice soft but threatening.

“Why did you mess up the female?”

Phex’s straightened.

“I don’t bite females. They had a fight,”

he said grudgingly.

Ucai leaned over Anske and inspected the wound.

“Looks nasty. What was the fight about?”

“She and the girl, Daphne, quarreled over a book,”

Alyesha said, drawing Ucai’s attention to herself.

He made a low sound in his throat.

“I thought you were friends.”

“We are. Friends have disagreements, no?”

Alyesha offered him a coy smile from beneath her lashes.

“Like your crew.”

“Our crew is built on strength. Only the strongest can lead us. We test ourselves because strength ebbs and flows. That’s why we fight. And you fight over this?”

He pointed at the Holy Guide.

Rosamma blinked. That wasn’t always why the pirates fought. Sometimes it was over sleeping nodes, the choice of music, and dumb jokes.

But whatever helped him sleep at night.

“The book has a special meaning to Anske,”

Alyesha explained, looking at Ucai earnestly.

“Daphne wanted it.”

He moved closer to her, his weird nostrils fluttering as he inhaled.

Meanwhile, Massar walked a slow circle around the room. He examined each woman in turn, pausing near Daphne… then Rosamma.

She went still, afraid to trigger him and unsure how not to. He seemed disturbed by her very existence.

Time dragged. Each minute stretched painfully long with the pirates invading the Cargo Hold, claiming it like their own.

They lingered, one watching Alyesha, the other Rosamma.

It was suffocating, like the bag on the head.

Phex remained on high alert, but they left him alone.

Finally, they left, trailed by the robot, without punishing the women for the chaos in the Cargo Hold.

Evidently, fights weren’t a punishable offense on Seven Oars. It was a twisted kind of freedom: the freedom to rip each other’s throats out. And the women seemed to have been granted it, assimilated into this… culture.

There was a collective sigh of relief.

Fawn muttered, “Thank God. That beady-eyed skeletal fuck gives me the creeps. I’m telling you, he’s on a sex offender roster somewhere. Maybe multiple. Probably likes to diddle kids.”

Rosamma refused to think about Massar and his obvious interest in her. It was easier that way. She’d promised Phex she’d work on her fear, and not thinking about what scared her seemed like a legit strategy.

Sassa rounded on Alyesha.

“You were batting your eyelashes at them. Are you for real?”

Alyesha looked back, surprised by this direct attack.

“What did you want me to do? Get under the blanket and hide inside a hoodie?”

“You were flirting with a pirate!”

Sassa’s reproach failed to penetrate Alyesha’s composed veneer.

“Wishing the pirates away won’t make them disappear, dear. I’ve never hidden from a man in my life.”

Sassa’s nose went up in the air.

“More like the opposite, apparently.”

“Are you trying to judge me?”

“I’m trying to understand why you want more of their attention. You’re not a nitwit who thinks about peens all the time.”

“Hey!”

Fawn pointed a finger.

“To put yourself in front of an alien—how can you?”

Sassa was flabbergasted.

Alyesha’s mouth formed a thin line.

“Practice.”

Her voice was flat.

“Well, stop! You’re giving them ideas. None of us will be safe.”

Sassa stomped to her place in the corner, her entire posture broadcasting indignation and disgust.

Anske moaned as she sat up, breaking the tension in the room.

In the absence of medical supplies, Fawn helped Rosamma affix one of the discarded bras to Anske’s shoulder.

“It’s going to scar,”

she said forlornly.

Realizing that she wasn’t dying, Anske had calmed down significantly.

“I will bear this scar with dignity.”

She picked up her Holy Guide and lovingly straightened out bent pages.

“It’s a mark of the hardships I’ve survived in the name of liberating people’s minds. The Spirit has not abandoned me in this time of need. Let’s pray.”

Sassa followed her lead without leaving her corner, bowing her head, moving her lips fast and with fervor.

Gro flashed a look at Daphne.

“Now we understand what she meant by ‘dangerous.’”

The girl sat hunched in the most distant corner like a cat left behind in the rain.

Eze went to her and held her close.

“It’s not her fault, being the way she is. She should’ve never left Meeus. Let’s hope it doesn’t happen again.”

Alyesha blew out a breath.

“Somebody keep an eye on her at all times, or we’ll have to tie her up.”

“We’ll watch her,”

Gro promised.

“God forbid she ever jumps a pirate.”

Gro spoke Universal, and Phex picked up on it.

“I thought you all wanted to do just that?”

Alyesha’s shoulders sagged.

They were kidding themselves, thinking that killing a Rix pirate would be as easy as slaughtering a bovine. Not that any of them had that experience either.

They settled around the room, passing the time with small, insignificant tasks.

The scene with Daphne continued to haunt Rosamma. She tried to think about escaping instead.

Could she send out a distress signal? Phex was too conspicuous, and the pirates kept a close watch on him. He’d have a hard time infiltrating the Command Center.

And if she died in the process, it would be no great loss.

Except for Ren.

It would matter to Ren if she died.