Slave Empire - Prophecy (19 page)

"Beautiful,
isn't it?" the Shrike murmured.

Rayne nodded,
unable to speak. The brilliant rays turned the desert into a
blazing golden platter; a gilded anvil that belied the cold that
seeped through the dome.

"Even the most
hostile environment has its beauty. I'm sure you've never seen such
a glorious sunrise," he commented.

"No, I
haven't."

"It's hard to
imagine people living out there, isn't it?"

"Do they?"

"Yes. A few
hundred lost, scarred souls, too hostile to live in a normal
environment anymore."

Rayne went
over to the low wall and leant on it. She wondered what kind of
people would live in the golden desert with its swirling dust.

She glanced at
the Shrike. "How do those people live out there?"

The Shrike
clasped his hands behind his back. "I give them food and
water."

"Why don't
they live here, with the others?"

"They can't."
He turned his head towards her, and apparently noticed her puzzled
look. "You would never understand. You're an innocent in a cruel
universe. You have no idea what goes on."

"So tell
me."

"No. You'll
find out, but not from me."

Rayne swung
away, angered by his refusal to explain even this. He watched the
sunrise until the colours faded, then returned to the gravcar. She
followed, sitting beside him with a shiver. He seemed unaware of
her discomfort, although he ensured that no contact was made. He
touched the controls, and the car rose.

The Shrike
took her on a tour of the city, pointing out the agriculture and
the rig that pumped water from far beneath the planet's crust.
Workers' houses lined the roads in residential suburbs, each
surrounded by a little patch of flowering greenery. Rayne wondered
why he spent so much time with a slave, but knew she would not get
an answer. Thoughts of escape still plagued her, but even if she
could get out of the dome, she would perish in the desert. The more
she pondered the problem, the larger it grew, and even getting out
of the dome was almost impossible. There was only one well-guarded
airlock.

At noon, they
returned to the apartment, where the Shrike ordered lunch from the
dewy-eyed slave girl who cleaned it. She appeared to be Atlantean,
a lower cast with almost monotone brown hair and dark green eyes,
her skin a dusky gold and her figure willowy. She smiled at him
with such blatant flirtation that Rayne was embarrassed for the
girl's sake, but when the slave glanced at Rayne her eyes turned
into chips of ice.

Rayne waited
for her to leave before turning to her captor. "Your slave seems to
be rather hostile. Does she think I'm going to replace her or
something? Is she afraid of being sold?"

"Slave? Oh, I
see. No, nothing like that. She might be jealous. A lot of them are
somewhat possessive."

"Jealous? Of
you?" She laughed. "How can they be jealous of a man who hides
behind a mask? A man who is their master?"

He stalked
over to the bar and poured a drink. "I don't know."

Rayne was
delighted to have found something that made him uncomfortable,
eager for a way to avenge her humiliation at his hands. "So you
think your female slaves are in love with you? You must have an
enormous ego." She giggled, but her amusement vanished when he
strode over to her, making her step back in surprise and
trepidation.

"You would
never understand," he said. "You may be innocent - perhaps too
innocent - but you're also ignorant."

The Shrike
thrust a glass at her, and she took it with trembling hands, unable
to stem her reaction to his angry proximity. Her heart slowed as he
moved away and sat on the sofa, and she took several deep breaths
to calm herself. A gulp of the liquid in her glass made her cough,
surprised by its alcohol content. He watched her as he lifted his
glass to the region of his mouth.

Rayne stared,
fascinated, as a hinged portion of the mask allowed the glass to
touch hidden lips. After a pause, she sat opposite him, uncertain
of what to say. His sudden anger had sent her hard-won confidence
scuttling into a dark corner of her mind, leaving her timid and
unsure. An uncomfortable silence ensued, which the re-entry of the
serving girl with lunch broke. The Shrike watched her, and must
have noticed the icy glance she shot Rayne.

After the maid
left, he poured the wine and passed Rayne a plate of roast
pseudo-fowl and steamed vegetables, leaving her to stew in her
curiosity. He slid aside a portion of the mask to eat, but the
darkness within was too deep for her to glimpse anything. About
halfway through the meal, he asked about her life on Earth, and
appeared to be interested in her stories. After several tales, she
decided to see if he would respond in kind.

"Why did you
rescue me from the store guards, that day on Earth, and why didn't
you capture me then?"

"I wasn't
there looking for slaves or booty. I was just curious, and stopped
over for a few hours, no more. I pitied your people and their fate,
but I didn't want to interfere. I admit, I was tempted to take you
away from that terrible place, but I wasn't sure how you'd react.
Some people prefer to die with their world. Saving an intelligent
being isn't the same as rescuing a starving Versar kitten. That
awful place might have unhinged you, or the shock of being taken
from your world might have driven you mad.

"I didn't want
to be responsible for that, and my ship wasn't equipped for
acclimatising or decontaminating aliens. The environment you lived
in was pretty hostile. It gave me a nasty rash, even though I was
only in it for a few minutes. I did you a small favour, which I
hoped would help you, but I couldn't do more than that. Besides,
the place was getting crowded, and the Atlantean ship was coming
dangerously close to detecting mine."

"You were
lucky they didn't see you. They had me under surveillance," she
commented.

"If they'd
been watching, they would have done something about it if they
wanted to collect you. I watched the chase for several minutes
before I intervened. I hoped you'd escape on your own."

She smiled.
"When you appeared in front of me, I thought you were an
autocrat."

"Tell me about
them."

Rayne obliged
while she ate her lunch, whose flavour was far superior even to the
finest pseudo-meat she had consumed on Atlan. The Shrike appeared
to be interested, made a few comments and asked questions. The wish
to see his face redoubled as she talked, for she could only guess
at his mood, other than polite interest. She wanted to ask him
again to remove it, but sensed that he would not.

As soon as the
flirtatious slave girl cleared away their empty plates, he left
without explanation, only saying that he would see her later. She
seethed inwardly at the unwelcome reminder that she was only a
slave and unworthy of any kind of excuse, to be left alone when he
felt like it, with no concern for her feelings. Her anger set her
once more upon her endeavour to escape, and she set to picking the
door lock with a thin-bladed knife she had purloined from the lunch
table. She pried open the panel beside the door, but the mass of
crystals and wires that resided within it confounded her. She
prodded it with the knife, hoping to hit the right short circuit,
but only succeeded in giving herself a nasty shock.

Rayne was
nursing her tingling hand and glaring at the ruined panel when the
Shrike returned. He noticed the damaged panel and shook his
head.

"So, you've
been busy again. Did you hurt yourself?"

She scowled at
him. "I'll live. Do you think I'm just going to sit here and do
nothing?"

"You won't
have to do that much longer."

Her blood
turned cold. "You're going to collar me."

"No. How many
times do I have to tell you?"

"Slaves
usually get collared, don't they?"

"Usually."

"So why should
I expect anything different?"

He made a
sound of disgust and turned away, sinking into a chair. "No reason,
I suppose. Anyway, you're going to get your wish. I'm going to sell
you. The sales been set up. It will take place within the next few
hours."

A wave of
intense dismay and terror swamped her, and she sat opposite as her
legs shook. For some insane reason, perhaps because he had been so
evasive before, she had not expected this. She fought a strong urge
to beg him not to, her emotions conflicted. Her sale offered a
slight hope of rescue, unless her next owner turned out to be the
killer Drevina had hoped for. At least the Shrike did not seem to
be such a person, yet she had asked to be sold. Now that it was
about to happen, the prospect terrified her. He studied her stunned
expression.

"This is what
you wanted, isn't it?"

"No! I want to
go back to Atlan."

He nodded. "Of
course, but that's not an option. You'll be quite safe, I assure
you."

"How would you
know? Once I'm sold, anything might happen to me."

"You wanted me
to sell you."

"I've changed
my mind. I'd rather stay with you. At least you're not a
psychopathic killer, or so you say."

"I might have
lied," he pointed out. "You also know that the Atlanteans have a
better chance of finding you if I keep you, don't you?" She
shrugged, and he continued, "Which is exactly why I have to sell
you. I don't need the aggravation. You'll be safe, I promise. As
soon as you're sold, I'll contact Tallyn and tell him who's got
you, then he can rescue you."

Her brows
rose, a stab of bitterness spoiling her joy. "That would be
generous of you, if you weren't so obviously killing two birds with
one stone. You make a profit and destroy a rival at the same time.
A neat plan."

"What makes
you think it's a rival and not a customer? How do you know I'm not
just doing this to throw Tallyn off my trail? Or maybe even to help
you, as I did on Earth?"

She hesitated.
"If you only want to help me, why don't you just let me go?"

"I must admit,
I do want my money back. But passing the information to Tallyn is
to help you."

"And to get
him off your trail."

He shrugged.
"That too. But my reasons are irrelevant. The end result will be
the same. You'll be returned to Atlan."

"Unless you're
lying, or your rival decides to kill me before Tallyn can save
me."

"Are all
humans so pessimistic and suspicious?"

"I have my
reasons," she said.

"Yes, I
suppose you do. I debated the wisdom of telling you anything.
Perhaps I shouldn't have. The damage is done, I suppose."

"You're a cold
bastard, aren't you? You don't care what happens to me. I hope
Tallyn does find you. I hope he kills you. In fact, I'll do all I
can to help him."

The Shrike
tilted his head, as if considering her, but she sensed no hint of
his mood. She regretted her words, and wished she could call them
back. Apart from the fact that she did not want him to be killed,
for reasons she did not care to contemplate, her threat also gave
him every reason to ensure that she could not help Tallyn. Not that
she could do much, other than describe the world on which he had
his base, but arid planets around yellow dwarf suns were
common.

For some
reason, his decision to sell her was hurtful, yet she did not
understand why. Her confusion brought a wave of homesickness and
self-pity, mixed with an unhealthy dose of shame at her
worthlessness. A logical voice demanded to know why she would
imagine a man like the Shrike, an alien, an outlaw and a slaver,
would care about someone like her, but it did not salve her
emotional reaction.

Two tears
escaped down her cheeks, and she scrubbed them away, then glanced
up when the Shrike rose and headed for the door. He paused there as
if to say something, then turned and left.

Rayne rubbed
her eyes, her emotional turmoil now including anger and
embarrassment at her show of weakness. Going into the bathroom, she
splashed her face, then returned to sit in the lounge and
contemplate her future. If the Shrike kept his word, she would soon
be back on Atlan and reunited with Rawn. If not, she could face any
number of horrors. She regretted her ill-advised threat now, and
resolved to take it back when next she saw him.

On Vengeance's
bridge, Marcon looked up from his holograms and announced, "We've
just received another signal, Commander, dead ahead again."

Tallyn’s
looked grim. "Time delay?"

"Still more
than two days."

"The same
heading," Tallyn mused, his brows knotted.

"Do you want
to call for an escort before we go any further into this area,
sir?"

"No,
continue."

Rawn asked,
"What's so dangerous about where we're going?"

Tallyn turned
to him. "The signal is leading us into an area of space that's
notorious for outlaws and petty tyrants. That in itself isn't of
great concern, since Vengeance is a battle cruiser and few can hope
to match her. But we're heading into the territory of a
particularly nasty and... powerful tyrant. Since we left Gergonia,
the trail has led straight here, so there's little hope that it's
going to change its heading now."

"So who is
this tyrant you're so concerned about?"

"He's known as
the Shrike, and he has a particularly bad reputation of hostility
towards intruders. He has a large fleet, and is considered
dangerous. No doubt one of his buyers purchased Rayne on Gergonia
and took her to one of his bases. They have no reason to harm her,
I assure you. As a valuable slave, she'll be treated well."

Rawn studied
the commander's tense face. Since Rayne's abduction, Tallyn had put
on a convincing façade of bluff confidence and unconcern, but Rawn
could tell he was worried. He wondered how much of Tallyn's concern
stemmed from Rayne's abduction, and how much was because she had
fallen into the hands of this particular slaver. Putting aside his
worries, Rawn asked the question that had been burning in his mind
since they left Atlan.