Read Bringing Stella Home Online
Authors: Joe Vasicek
Tags: #adventure, #mercenaries, #space opera, #science fiction, #galactic empire, #space battles, #space barbarians, #harem captive, #far future, #space fleet
“
Breathe, my friends,”
commanded Sergeant Voche. “Breathe the breath of Tenguri, and
receive the power of the gods!”
The mouthpiece soon arrived in Ben’s
hands. It was made of gold and fashioned in the shape of a dragon’s
snout. Ben stared at the ferocious eyes embedded at the base of the
node, sharp, pointed teeth lining either side right to the smoking
tip.
He placed the golden dragon snout in
his mouth and inhaled.
The taste of the smoke exploded in his
mouth, a hundred times stronger than before. He coughed and
swooned, nearly blacking out. A tingling sensation began at the top
of his head and swept over the entirety of his body. Colors and
shapes filled his vision, and a thousand disjointed thoughts
flooded his mind like chattering voices in a crowded hall. Soon,
the mental noise blended together, and a kaleidoscope of sensory
data overwhelmed him.
All at once, he saw everything that
was happening in the room—everything the others saw, everything the
others felt. One hundred eyes and ears, fifty racing hearts, and
fifty panicked minds. Pain, convulsions, and vomiting. A thousand
indistinguishable thoughts bombarded his consciousness, as he
simultaneously writhed on the floor in a seizure, drowned in his
own vomit, screamed in horror, and passed through the terrible
emptiness of death.
“
Do not be afraid!” Voche
shouted, his voice rising above the torrent of awareness that
gripped them all. “You have been freed from your bodily prison to
become one with the spirits that surround you. Receive the breath
of the Lord Creator, and let it purify you.”
The boy who had once been Ben stared
with the eyes of the Many at the faces of those vessels which had
once been closed to him. Voche’s speech echoed through their ears
like the voice of a god, calling them to a single point of focus
within a sea of chaos. Their eyes turned on him, staring from every
angle.
“
You are Brothers of the
Red Dragon,” he shouted. “I am your commander, your brother, your
father. I will teach you the true meaning of unity and will lead
you to strength and victory!”
The godlike words felt like the tender
caress of a mother to her infant. Swimming in volatile shades of
consciousness, the boy without a name stared into Voche’s eyes and
rejoiced with the Many at their new-found father.
* * * * *
“
So you are the one they
call ‘Sholpan.’”
The remark was more of a stated
observation than a question. The middle-aged woman who spoke stood
with her arms crossed over her chest. From her long, green dress
and the obstinate scowl, Stella recognized her at once as the woman
she’d bumped into in the hallway on her first day.
“
Yes,” said Stella. “And
you are—”
“
Lady Borta,” the woman
snapped.
“
Ah.”
Borta’s private apartment
stretched almost twenty meters from end to end—an unthinkably huge
room for an interstellar spaceship. Compared to the concubines’
quarters, it felt like a cathedral. Glass mosaics of green vines
and rich fruit lined the walls and floorboards, while to the left,
a small fountain, surrounded by a cascading hydroponic garden,
filled the room with the soft sound of trickling water.
That must be why the air smells so clean in
here,
Stella realized. Other furnishings
included a computer terminal, a series of food processors, and
several couches. A normal door—not a bead curtain—separated the
front room from the private quarters.
Lady Borta rose magnanimously from her
seat on the nearest couch and circled Stella. “Not bad for one of
Qasar’s playthings,” she muttered.
Stella winced. “I’m sorry,” she
blurted. “I never meant to come between you and your husband.
If—”
“
What? Come between me and
Qasar?”
“
Uh, yes,” said Stella. “I
didn’t mean to, and I’m sorry, I really—”
“
What gives you the
impudence to think that you can come between me and
Qasar?”
Stella blushed and shifted nervously
on her feet. “That’s not what I meant,” she said. “It’s just that
the way Qasar, you know, keeps so many women, I—I don’t know. You
must be jealous, and—”
“
Jealous?” Borta tossed
back her head and laughed uproariously for several long moments.
Stella smiled, but couldn’t find the nerve to laugh with
her.
“
You think I’m jealous?”
Borta said. “Of you?” She laughed again.
“
I—” Stella said, then
stopped herself. She didn’t know what to think anymore.
“
Do you have any idea who I
am?” Borta asked, suddenly serious again.
“
Well, yes,” said Stella.
“You are Lady Borta, Qasar’s first wife—”
“—
head wife.”
“
Head wife,” Stella
corrected herself.
“
And?”
“
And, um, mother of Qasar’s
heir?”
“
And?”
Stella fidgeted nervously with her
hands. “And, um, a very important woman?”
“
That’s right,” said Borta,
her voice low and dangerous. “I am the chief matriarch of
the
Lion of Tenguri.
Within the confines of this ship, my word is law; only Qasar
has more authority than I. And what are you?”
Stella shifted uneasily on her feet.
“A prisoner?”
“
Not anymore,” said Borta.
“You ceased to be a prisoner the moment you set foot on this ship.
What are you now?”
That’s not true,
Stella thought to herself.
I’m still a prisoner.
“
I said, what are you
now?”
She drew in a sharp breath. “A
concubine,” she mumbled.
“
What was that? I didn’t
hear you.”
“
A concubine,” Stella said,
marginally louder. She wished she could sink through the floor and
disappear.”
“
That’s right,” said Borta.
“A concubine. A plaything. A glorified whore. That is your place on
this ship.”
“
I never meant to take your
husband from you,” Stella said, her voice barely more than a
whisper. “Please don’t be jealous.”
“
Take my husband from me?
How could you possibly take my husband from me? Qasar is a powerful
man. In his heart, it’s not enough to be captain of one ship—a man
of his greatness is destined to command entire fleets. Do you think
one woman is enough for such a man?”
Stella slowly shook her head. Borta’s
eyes narrowed.
“
Qasar’s destiny is to
conquer and rule, in his bedchamber as well as anywhere else. And
what are you? His plaything. His pet. You exist to give him
pleasure, to quench his desire. You exist to be
conquered.”
Stella didn’t know what to say to
that, so she kept silent.
“
My husband called you into
his bedchamber last night, did he not?”
“
Yes,” said Stella. “But
I—”
“
But you did not sleep with
him,” said Borta, cutting her off. “Why not?”
Stella blushed again. “Because—because
it was wrong.”
“
Wrong? How could it be
wrong? It’s your place on this ship, isn’t it? It’s your
duty!”
Stella clenched her fists. “I’m not
that kind of a girl.”
In one smooth motion, Borta slapped
her on the cheek. “Without those above you, you would be nothing.
You would be dead. Understand?”
No,
Stella almost answered. Instead, she said nothing.
Borta slapped her again, on the other
cheek. “Listen to me, you little whore. I know your type. You think
that you’re subtle, that you can climb the ranks, that you can come
out of nowhere and rise to the top.”
“
No,” Stella said quickly.
“That’s not true. I—”
Borta struck her a third time, harder
than both the first two. Stella’s head snapped to the side, and she
lifted her hand to rub her battered cheek.
“
Don’t lie to me,” Borta
hissed. “I know you told Qasar that you’re a virgin.”
How could she possibly
know that?
Stella wondered.
Is there a camera in Qasar’s
bedchamber?
“
I don’t know if he
believes you yet,” Borta continued, “but I won’t have any more of
your machinations.”
“
I’m sorry,” Stella said.
“I want nothing to do with your husband. Honest!”
Borta’s eyes narrowed. Stella cringed,
expecting another blow. Instead, Borta pulled a long, thin object
out of her sleeve.
“
Do you see this?” Borta
said, holding up a needle. The tip was as long as Stella’s hand,
and it glimmered in the fluorescent light.
Before Stella could answer, Borta
jabbed the needle into her stomach with a quick flick of the wrist.
Stella’s eyes widened, and she felt a sharp pain, followed by an
even sharper numbness. Fear shot through her, and her blood turned
to ice.
Oh my God,
she thought to herself.
Lady Borta just stabbed me—she just
stabbed
me
!
“
This needle is embedded in
a major acupuncture point along your liver meridian,” said Borta,
her voice deadly calm. “It will leave no visible wound when I
remove it. It was not poisoned—this time. You should consider
yourself lucky.”
Don’t
move
, Stella told herself.
Don’t make it snap off inside of
you
.
“
I tire of your games, so
let us be frank. When my husband summons you again, you will let
him have his full pleasure with you, in every possible way. Is that
clear?”
Stella hardly dared to breathe for
fear of injury. Her eyes burned with tears, but she bit her lip to
quell them.
“
Who do you think runs this
ship? Who is in charge of the concubines’ level? I oversee the food
you eat, the water you drink, even the very air you breathe. If I
wanted, I could kill you right now—and it would not look like
murder.”
Her voice dropped to a whisper as she
leaned into Stella’s ear. “I would get away with it, too. I’ve done
it before.”
Borta yanked the needle out. Stella
gasped and fell to her hands and knees. She wanted to throw
up.
“
Well?” said Borta. “What
is your answer?”
“
I’ll do it!” Stella cried.
“Yes! I’ll do it!”
“
You had better,” said
Borta. “Now get out of my room, you little whore.”
Stella did not need to be told twice.
Clutching her stomach, she stumbled to her feet and hurried to the
door, banging her knee against one of the couches on her way
out.
After she found herself in the bright
white corridor, she lifted her hand up and looked at her stomach.
Borta was right—no blood, no wound. No sign, other than a slight
tingle, that the long, wicked needle had ever been
there.
Ben!
Stella wanted to scream, her legs weak and her arms and hands
powerless.
Where are you? What have they
done to you? Please, save me!
Anybody—save
me!
* * * * *
“
Forward!” Voche’s voice
boomed through the narrow white corridors of the training ship.
“Double time!”
The heavy footsteps of the platoon
sounded loudly in the ears of the boy without a name. The vessel of
his body was once again his to possess, and he reveled in the
briskness and precision of his senses. His new black body armor,
though heavy, felt solid and firm on his shoulders, reassuring him
that he was still alive.
Still, an ever-present awareness of
the Many stayed with him, long after the effects of the drug had
worn off. Feelings and emotions swam together, all of them his, all
of them theirs, a single river of Being fed by dozens of
tributaries.
The sound of his platoon brethren
marching in unison filled him with a sense of belonging. This was
his home—this was his family. His emotions were no longer his to
possess alone, but that was of no consequence. He was
happy.
At a signal from Voche, they turned
and passed through an open doorway into a room filled with tables
and benches. Against the wall on the far side, the boy saw a series
of tables with covered pans. Trays, plates, and utensils were
stacked on one side, and the smell of freshly cooked meat filled
the air.
Gradually, almost imperceptibly at
first, a feeling of eager anticipation rolled through them. It grew
steadily until the boy licked his lips, suddenly aware of the
burning hunger in his stomach. He could tell, from the expressions
on his platoon-brothers’ faces, that they felt the same. Without a
word, they formed a line.
Voche stepped up and lifted the first
pan. It was empty.
A crushing sense of disappointment
struck them all like a blow to the stomach. The blow echoed through
the hearts of his platoon brethren until it became a giant wave,
filling them all with a horrible sense of loss. Tears came to the
boy’s eyes, while around him, others fell to their knees,
sobbing.