Page 14 of Solomon's Ransom

Finally the Tozren stopped before another door. “You’re meeting the boss,” he said. “Don’t piss him off or we’ll space you.”

“Okay,” Sol said, as if he had any clear idea how to avoid pissing off a Tozren he’d never met.

The Tozren touched a round knob beside the door. The door slid open. Sol, nudged by the gun, stepped inside.

SIX

The room within was small. It held a desk, a large Tozren sitting in a chair behind the desk, and absolutely nothing else. The walls bore no decorations. There were no windows. Sol had nothing to look at as the man behind the desk spoke in Tozrai with Sol’s guard, so instead he studied the Tozren. He was beginning to realize that Remma, huge as he was, was actually on the small side for a Tozren. The one behind the desk had arms so massive they made Remma’s look puny.

Sol’s headache intensified. He was sweating a little from the heat. He almost wished the Tozren would just go ahead and kill him, because it seemed inevitable that they would kill him in the end. Just get it over with—end the suspense. He liked being alive, though. He would do everything he could to stay alive for as long as he could manage.

With a final few words to the boss, Sol’s guard left. Sol was alone with this man who would determine his fate.

“So,” the Tozren said. He had a face like a mushroom, pale and bulbous. “You are Remma’s friend.”

He spoke with what Sol was learning to recognize as a Tozrai accent. Remma didn’t have one, and Sol wondered how hard he’d worked to get rid of it, and why. “I thought we were friends.”

The man’s mouth curled into a smile. There was no warmth or kindness in it. “And now you think you were wrong? It’s hard to be disillusioned.” He leaned forward and folded his hands on the desk. “My men were fools to bring you here, but now you’re here, so I may as well make some use of you. Your mother, I’m told, will pay handsomely to get you back.”

“I’m her only child,” Sol said. That, at least, was true.

“Which implies what? That she’ll pay, or that she won’t? You’ll have to forgive my ignorance. I’m not well acquainted with human customs.”

“She cherishes me.” An awkward thing to say, but true enough while avoiding any lies. He wanted to lie as little as possible, because it was too easy to get your lies confused and end up in hot water.

“So will she pay,” the Tozren said, with a flat look. “Or not?”

No wriggling out of it. “She will,” Sol said, with as much confidence as he could muster. With what imaginary money, he didn’t know—but that was a problem for the future. Or for Remma, who had proposed this scheme in the first place.

The Tozren snorted. “Of course you say that. If you were to say otherwise, you know I’d dispense with you.” He looked at Sol, his gaze so intent and searching that Sol fought to maintain eye contact. “My name is Dennamerussen, human. I own this ship, and everyone on it works for me. Including yourfriend. Stay where you’re put and don’t even think about trying to escape, and maybe you’ll live. Do you understand me?”

“I do,” Sol said tightly.

“Good. I’ll deal with you when I have time, and right now, I don’t.” He reached over and touched a knob on the wall. “Camma will take you to your quarters. Do us both a favor and don’t make any trouble for me. I won’t enjoy dealing with it, and neither will you.”

“Understood,” Sol said. Good grief, he’d gotten the message the first time.

The door slid open. The same Tozren came in, still wielding his gun as though Sol, entirely unarmed, posed any threat whatsoever to two aliens twice his size. “Let’s go,” Camma said with an impatient gesture.

Sol followed him into the ship’s winding corridors again. Other Tozren passed without a glance, so maybe word had spread fast. Sol hoped for a glimpse of Remma, but none of the people going by was him. It seemed unlikely that Sol would see him again. Sol would be alone until his fate was finally decided for him.

The corridors emptied out as they walked, until they were in what seemed to be a deserted section of the ship. If Sol didn’t know better, he would have sworn the walls moved in and out, like the motion of breathing.

Camma took him to a door at the very end of a hallway and grabbed a knob on the wall beside it. The door slid open, revealing a small room. With a rough shove, Camma pushed Sol inside.

“Someone will come by twice a day to bring you food and water,” Camma said. “You need anything, you ask then.” Without waiting for a reply, he closed the door.

Sol took stock of his new prison cell. There was a bed, a low platform that curved out from the wall, with a single blanket folded up at one end. There was a table and a stool, and a set of drawers embedded in one wall. All of the drawers were empty. An attached room boasted a toilet, a sink, and a deep tub for soaking, which seemed oddly luxurious. The pirates didn’t seem prepared for prisoners, so maybe this room was just what they happened to have on hand.

The room contained nothing else. No screen for watching vids, no speaker for listening to music. None that he could see, at least.

He sat down on the bed. It was firm beneath him, unyielding as a slab of stone.

Well. Here he was.

* * *

Despite the grimcircumstances he’d found himself in, Sol was exhausted from the lack of sleep the night before followed by the desperate race through the woods and the even more desperate climb. He lay down on the bed, pulled the blanket over him, and fell asleep.