| Far
Above Rubies |
Who can find a virtuous woman, for her price is far above rubies.
Proverbs 31:10, King James Version
Seefra One. You have heard the rumors of this place. They say that the drought ended here. They say that outsiders from some unknown place somehow managed to shift the planet and bring the rains.
They say that all wealth worth having can now be found on Seefra One.
You wished your family had possessed some of that wealth. Perhaps then the debtors wouldn’t have come to your home. Perhaps they wouldn’t have killed your father for not being able to pay what he owed them. Perhaps they wouldn’t have taken you away, bound at the wrists and chained at the ankles, to Seefra One.
They haven’t touched you, not once. Not since the boss’ woman examined you and informed him that you were untouched. They said you had more value to a prospective buyer that way. They kept you separate from the other slaves and only let the woman approach you. You heard them discussing you sometimes, imagining the price they’ll be able to get for you. The more they raised your price, the more it saddened you.
You wonder if the rumors about Seefra One are true, if there really is grass growing everywhere and plenty of water to drink. You can’t tell from the cramped little cell they have you in. The air is stale and it’s dark. So dark than when the door is yanked open you wince from the sudden pain in your eyes and cringe back against the wall.
“What do you mean you get nothing?” The woman’s voice is angry.
“I lost too much in the game, and she’s all we’ve got that’s enough value to buy him off!” The boss reaches in and grips the bindings on your wrists, pulling you up harshly.
“Then we raise her price and give him what you owe him out of the sale.”
“Even she won’t bring us that much!” He yanks you forward so that he can bend down and unfasten your ankles. “Listen, girl. You’ve got a new owner. He’s supposed to be a real tough guy, so don’t give him any trouble. He hangs with a good crowd, though, so if you keep him happy and don’t give him any trouble, he might even free you one day.” He thrusts the ankle bindings at his lover before gripping you by your hair and tilting your face up. “She’s filthy. Clean her up. I can’t take her to him looking like this.”
You’re allowed to sponge yourself off and the woman manages to find you a simple dress from somewhere in the ship that doesn’t stink of sweat. She gives you a comb to work the snarls and knots from your hair and a strip of cloth to tie it back with. Once you’re ready she takes you back out to the boss. He grunts his approval and grips you by the elbow, escorting you from the ship.
You’re brought to a seedy looking warehouse where a man stands alone, drinking from a hip flask. He seems scruffy, unkempt, but well nourished. There is a trio of bony protrusions on each of his forearms and there is something dangerous about him, enough so that you plant your feet to try and stop yourself from being brought any closer. The boss gives you a yank, which makes you stumble a bit and gasp in surprise. That gets the man’s attention and he turns around. A scowl marks his features.
“What is this?”
The boss offers his oiliest smile. “This is what I owe you.”
“And what am I supposed to do with her?”
“From what I’ve heard, you know exactly what to do with her.” The boss moves you forward and claps a meaty hand on the back of your neck to keep you from trying to run. “She’s fresh. Her father was a junk dealer on Seefra Five who racked up more debts than he could pay. She’s the only thing he had of value worth taking. Strong, used to hard work and never been touched.”
The man gives a disbelieving smirk. “And I’m sure she always eats her vegetables and says her prayers every night. You owe me five thousand canal. I want my money.”
“She’s worth five thousand canal, but no one around here has it to pay. Come on, Rhade. How long can you keep playing fast and loose with your health with those tramps? No telling where they’ve been, what they might be carrying. She’s clean, she’s healthy and she’s a hard worker. It’s as good as having a wife, but you can just sell her if she gets to be too much of a nag.”
At the mention of ‘wife’ you see the corner of this Rhade’s eye twitch. For a second there seems to be someone kind underneath that gritty exterior and a spark of hope flares inside you. You try to ask him for help with your eyes, try to convey your desire to get away from the man who has a hold of you. Rhade meets your gaze for a moment, but the hard mask goes back into place quickly.
“If you think she’s worth that much, then try harder to get the price and bring me what you owe me.” He turns to walk away.
“I suppose I could get you a down payment. The madam at the brothel will probably be glad to have her. You can try her out there, see what you’re giving up.” The boss grips you more tightly and goes to turn you around.
“Wait!”
You stop as Rhade comes towards you. He scowls at the boss before he grips your wrist and turns your hand over to look at your palms. They aren’t the hands of a lady, but they’re not ugly, either. The boss was right when he said you weren’t unused to a little hard work. Rhade reaches up and feels of your arm, testing the muscles there. Finally, he glares at the boss. “This one time, only. In the future, if you don’t have the money to cover your bets, do not sit down at my table.” He doesn’t spare another word for the boss, but instead grips your arm and pulls you away from the alley.
You don’t know what to say, or if you should say anything. Though he spared you from the brothel, you have no way of knowing if he’ll just sell your time to others once he’s had all he wants of you himself. His stride is long and purposeful as he leads you through the streets of the settlement and into a bar.
All heads turn towards you as you enter. Most go back to whatever they were doing, but a few remain interested. A beautiful woman with blond hair and pink clothes that accentuate her figure tilts a curious look towards your new owner. “Rhade? Who’s that?”
“I won her.” He brings you to the table and unfastens your bonds. The other blond woman at the table gives him a surprised look.
“You won her? This is how that grease ball paid you? He gave you a person?”
“Yes.” He looks at you and nods towards the bar. “Fetch me a drink.” With that he sits down at the table. Apparently the women aren’t too happy about this development. You hear them protest as you move to obey. A strange looking girl with pointed ears and long, auburn hair smiles at you as she fills a glass with an amber liquid.
“Rhade! You can’t keep her!”
“Beka, I won her. She’s mine.”
“Dylan will never let you keep someone as a slave.” This was the voice of the one in pink.
“I don’t take orders from Dylan.”
A short, youngish man with blond hair moves up to the bar. “Trance, don’t encourage him.” He tries to take the glass before you can reach for it.
“Harper, have a little trust in him.” The pixie-like woman smiles again and gives you the glass to deliver to your new owner. You thank her softly and carry it over to him. He accepts the glass as he scoots away from the table a bit. The movement seems out of place to you until he turns you around and pulls you down so that you’re sitting on his knee. This seems to rile ‘Beka’ even more.
“Rhade!”
He takes a drink from his glass, swallows and smiles. “Yes, Beka?” He pulls you closer so that your snug against him, his free hand rubbing up and down your outer arm. It’s not something that you’re used to.
“Let her go.”
“That wouldn’t be cost effective. I forgave a five thousand canal debt in exchange for her.”
The other woman narrows a glare at him. “It’s wrong to keep a sentient being as property.”
“Doyle, my people have been keeping unmodified humans as property for three centuries. Just ask Harper.”
Beka slams her glass down. “So you’re saying that you’re no better than the Dragans or the Sabrans? That’s not the Rhade I thought I knew.”
“None of us are the people we once knew, Beka.” He drains his glass and sets it down solidly onto the table. “However, if our company isn’t wanted here, we’ll simply take ourselves elsewhere.” He pushes you gently to indicate that you should stand up, and then stands up himself, tossing a canal onto the table to pay for the drink before taking your arm and leading you out. Beka’s voice follows you both.
“Rhade! You’re going to regret this! If Dylan doesn’t beat the shit out of you, I will!”
He leads you out of the bar and to a dwelling near by. The entrance goes down into the rock where it’s cooler and dark. You know that you’re walking down steps, but you can’t see them well enough to be sure of your footing. Luckily, you don’t trip and make a fool of yourself. The narrow passage opens out into a large chamber crowded with crates and boxes of various items. Once inside he leads you over to a small side passage that opens into a lavatory. There is a sink, a toilet and… a real shower.
“Get cleaned up, and feel free to take your time. There’s plenty of water.” His voice is different. It seems softer, gentler. “There’s a chest by the door. Something in there’s bound to fit you. I’m going out. Don’t wait up.” He leaves you standing there in confusion and uncertainty, but grateful for the solitude in someplace that is actually large enough for you to move around in.
You take his command to heart. First you examine the chest and find that it’s filled with women’s clothing. You find one that looks as though it will fit you and carry it into the small lavatory, draping it over a bar on the wall before turning on the taps to the shower. You adjust them until the water is a comfortable temperature and strip down. Stepping under the water flow you want to laugh. Only the very wealthy and powerful could ever afford such decadence before. Common folk, such as you, always had to make do with sponging off the gross filth and dirt. You’ve always wondered what it would feel like to be really clean for a change.
There is soap there, clean smelling and more masculine than is customary for a woman, but you really don’t care at this point. You lather up and rinse off, then later up again, even taking time to clean your hair. Your skin feels wonderful, like it can truly breathe for the first time in your life. Once satisfied, you turn off the water and dry yourself off using a thick towel from a little niche carved into the wall. You comb your hair out the best you’re able to with your fingers and pull on the clean dress.
Rhade is still not back. You look around the quarters, uncertain of what to do. He didn’t give you permission to leave this place and there doesn’t seem to be even so much as a receiver for you to listen to Virgil Vox on. Your master’s quarters are cluttered, however, and you decide to busy yourself with tidying them. There is much to be dusted and straightened, and some of the crates are rather heavy. Time passes, but you finish and he still hasn’t returned. Tired, you sit down on the only surface available, the double bed that is the center of the room. You eventually give in to the need to lie down and fall asleep.
You don’t know how much time passes before the sounds of laughter wake you. You hear Rhade’s gruff voice, but only enough to recognize it, accompanied by the shrieking laughter of at least two women. You stand up quickly, reaching down to smooth out the covers where you’ve been resting. You’re just standing back up when the trio stumbles into the room.
The women pull up short, as does Rhade. He blinks, seeming confused for a moment. “You. I forgot you were here.”
One of the women glares. “Rhade, who’s she?”
“She’s mine.” He seems to ponder what to do for a second before taking his arms from around the women’s necks. “Thank you for the escort, ladies, but now it’s time for you to go.”
The women mewl in protest, but he waves off their cries and gives them both a sharp whack on their bottoms. “Out! Ply your wares to someone else. I already have company for the night.” They leave grudgingly, but it seems that their protests end after they are out the door. He shrugs out of his leather duster as he looks around the quarters. “You’ve been busy. It looks good.”
“I… thought it might make things a bit more comfortable.”
He grunts in response as he walks past you into the bathing room. You hear the water start up and realize that he’s decided to shower himself. You sigh and sit back down on the bed, not knowing what is expected of you.
“Rhade? Rhade, are you in here?” A tall man, a very tall man, comes down the steps into the room. You get up quickly. He stops, looking at you in a mixture of surprise and curiosity before he tilts his head towards the sound of the shower. He holds up a finger to indicate that you should stay put before walking to the other room. “Rhade, we need to talk.”
“In a minute, Dylan.” He gives a shrill, sharp whistle. “Hey, fix our guest a drink!”
You remember where you saw the glass tumblers and wine earlier, but Dylan comes out of the bathing room. “Don’t do that.”
“Then fix me a drink instead. Let him fend for himself.”
You nod to yourself and move towards the crate again, but Dylan stops you with a hand on your shoulder. “No, don’t do that, either.”
The water shuts off. “Dylan, she’s new at this. She needs to learn to obey me. Kindly stop undermining my authority.” Rhade comes out of the room with a towel wrapped around his hips. “That drink?”
You go towards the chest again, but again Dylan grabs your shoulder to stop you. “Rhade, you can’t keep her.”
“She’s mine, fair and square.” His voice has taken on that same, subtle change that he had used when he was dealing with Beka at the bar. The thought crosses your mind that he’s only trying to rile up this Dylan. “Her previous owner owed me a lot of money and couldn’t pay. So I took her instead.”
“Rhade, you cannot keep a sentient being as property. It’s wrong.”
“Hey, it was either the brothel or I. This way she only has to deal with me. And just look at the improvements she’s made so far.” He smiles as he spreads his arms wide to indicate the cleaner quarters. “I think we’ll deal quite well together. Now, if you have no other pressing matters, I’d like my drink and a massage before bed. Do you mind?”
Dylan glares at Rhade and pulls you away from the crate. “You’re not keeping her, Rhade. She’s a human being, not a pet and not a machine.” He puts an arm around your shoulder and tugs at you gently. “Come on. Let’s get you out of here.”
“Dylan, did it ever occur to you that she might not want to leave? I mean, I left her here all afternoon and she never made an attempt to escape. The door wasn’t locked. She could have just walked out and I might not have even said anything.” He walks over to the bed and stretches out on his stomach, propping his chin up on the heel of one hand as he looks at you. “What about it? Do you want to leave?”
You truly don’t understand this Rhade. When his friends are around he seems to go out of his way to be hard and ruthless, and yet the look in his eyes at this moment in time seems mirthful and light. He seems to want to turn this all into some sort of game. If you say ‘yes’, will he let this Dylan take you away from here? If he did, what would you do? Where would you go? You home is gone, your father is gone. Without those things you would likely end up having to lower your standards to the brothel anyway.
What was it that Trance had said? ‘Have a little trust in him.’ Trust was a precious commodity in Seefra, even more precious that water, but Trance seemed to think that Rhade was worth the price.
“No, I think I’d like to stay.”
Dylan takes a breath to try and argue with you, but Rhade cuts him off. “You heard her, Dylan. She wants to stay here, with me. The hour grows late, so I hope you’ll understand if I ask you to leave. I would like my massage before bed.”
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Your name is Kitten.
At least, that is what your master has decided you shall be called. He dubbed you thus at the bar a few days after you were given to him. He had been sitting at a table with Beka, Doyle and Harper with you on his knee when Beka had asked you what your name is. Before you could answer Rhade smiled and said, “This is Kitten. Kitten, say ‘hello’ to the nice people.” His friends hadn’t liked that answer.
Yours has become a strange life.
You had expected that as a slave you would be required to do any number of demeaning tasks during the day and spend your nights seeing to the carnal desires of your master or anyone he chose to loan you out to. In the two months that you have been here so far, Rhade has never asked you to do anything demeaning and he has never required you to see to his physical needs. In fact, your master was still satisfying those desires with the various prostitutes on Seefra One, but he was not bringing them here, not since that first night. You only know about them because he sometimes comes in reeking of too much drink and cheap perfume.
You keep your mouth shut and don’t ask questions.
You could only clean his quarters so many times and were relieved when he asked you if you could read and write. You can, and you also helped to tend your father’s business, keeping his books for him. He had never had as fine a selection of merchandise, things that would bring in better prices and a more lucrative income. Rhade seemed pleased at your experience and had set you to cataloguing his wares. Now you are even allowed to tend the books for him, freeing up his time to do more important things.
You’re not quite sure what it is that your master does. Oh, you know about the business dealings. You have to keep the books balanced and he often comes back from those with some little thing for you. You now have several nice, new outfits to wear as well as soaps and hair cleansers that are more suited to a female. It’s the other times you don’t know about, the times when he runs off with Dylan or Beka, only to come back with cuts and bruises and signs of having been in a fight. These times are always followed by rumors that someone done something heroic, whether it be rescuing children who had been forced to work in mines to removing a tyrant who was subjugating an entire village. Rhade never speaks of these things. He only comes home and throws himself across his bed so that you can tend to his injuries.
That’s another oddity about your new life. The bed. There is still only the one bed in your master’s quarters. He has never made you sleep on the stone floor, nor has he ever provided anything else for you to sleep on. You sleep on the same bed as he does and still he has never required you to do more than sleep. He only pulls you to him until your snug in the curve of his body and falls to sleep with his face in your hair. This is how you always end up; even on the nights he comes home drunk and reeking of cheap sex. It’s quickly getting to the point that you doubt you could rest well without him there to hold you.
Yours has, indeed, become a truly strange life.
You are triple checking your figures when he comes in. “Kitten, pack a bag, a change of clothes for each of us. We’re going on a trip.” He tugs your hair lightly as he walks by to the chest where he keeps some of his more intimidating weapons. You lock up the accounting record and proceed to pack. “Take something hard wearing. We might get a bit dirty.”
When you’re done he has chosen several different weapons and put them in a carrying case, which he slings over his shoulder. He walks you out of the dwelling and locks the door behind you before taking you to the landing area where Beka’s ship is docked.
The interior of the Eureka Maru seems a bit cramped and hectic, but you’ve heard your master talk about this ship. He says that she looks as though she’s always falling apart, but she still manages to pull through. He takes the bag you packed from you and stores it to one side along with his. Beka peeks out from the cockpit, curious at the noise. “You let her out of her box! How thoughtful of you.”
“Pay her no mind, Kitten. She’s just naturally unpleasant.” He gives Beka as smart-ass smile before patting your head and placing a brief kiss at your temple. He escorts you up to the cockpit and has you sit at one of the consoles behind the pilot. He takes up the other seat as Beka lifts off.
You had heard rumors about the Andromeda, but you had never thought to see her. She’s massive, bigger than anything you’ve ever seen, and graceful to the eye. Rhade said that Harper and Doyle have made a lot of progress in getting her back up and running, most of which appeared to consist of trying to get the ships ‘self’ back in working order. All your life you have been told that technology leads to trouble, but Rhade tells you this is foolishness. Andromeda is a living, thinking ship, when she’s in working order.
You can’t wait to meet her.
“You know, bringing her along is just going to irritate Dylan. It irritates me.”
“What do you people have against my Kitten? She’s a sweetheart.”
“You know we don’t have anything against her, and when are you going to let her go by her real name?”
“I like kittens.”
Beka docks the Maru inside one of Andromeda’s hangars and looks back at Rhade. “You like kittens?”
Rhade shrugs. “They’re soft and cuddly. What’s not to like?” He looks over at you and smiles. “Come on. I’ll show you around the ship, part of it anyway. It’s too big to fit it all in.” He grins over at Beka. “Thanks for the lift.”
You carry the clothes; he carries the weapons. The corridors of the ship all look the same to you, but Rhade seems to know where to go. You turn a corner as a light appears in front of you both. The light forms into the image of a beautiful woman with dark hair and a rather displeased expression. “Rhade! What is the meaning of this?”
“Andromeda! You’re looking in fine form. Andromeda, this is Kitten. Kitten, Andromeda.”
The image of the woman scowled. “I had hoped the Dylan was joking when he told me about her. I will not allow slavery on me!”
“Andromeda, Dylan needs me to pull of this little job and I need her. She’s from Seefra Five, from the very settlement we’re going to. It will help to have a local.”
Andromeda narrowed her eyes. “Fine, she can stay on board, but she gets her own quarters. Far from yours.”
Oh, now, that’s being a bit presumptuous, don’t you think? We only have the one bag, and maybe she doesn’t want her own room.” He smiles over at you. “Well, Kitten, do you want your own room? You’d actually be able to sleep without me hogging all the bed space for once.”
For a moment you want to laugh. He never hogs bed space. The two of you combined rarely use even half of the bed. “No, I’d rather stay with you.”
Rhade smiles back at Andromeda. “See? You’re getting all worked up over nothing. Now, if you’ll excuse us.” He puts a hand at the small of your back and leads you right through Andromeda’s image, that amused smirk of his playing at the corners of his mouth.
He brings you to a room done in reds and blacks. Everything is nice and luxurious compared to his quarters on Seefra One. He notes your confused expression as he takes the bag from your shoulder. “This is where I stayed before I came to Seefra One, back when I was a proper military officer. That all seems like a lifetime ago. My uniforms are still here, even.”
“You wore uniforms?” You try to picture this rough and tumble man in something confining and pressed. The image just doesn’t come to mind. He grins at your expression.
“Try imagining me with short hair and clean shaven.”
“No, still doesn’t work.”
He chuckles and tweaks your nose as a beep sounds in the room. Dylan’s voice can be heard. “Rhade, meeting in the briefing room in fifteen minutes.” His voice is short and clipped.
“We’ll be right there.” Rhade smiles wider. “Turn around.” You do so and he unbraids your hair, combing it out with his fingers so that if falls down your back in a wave before turning you back around to face him. He tilts your chin up and kisses you firmly, wrapping his arms about you and holding you close. He’s never kissed you before and it takes you by surprise. This is different from the few stolen kisses from boys on Seefra Five during festival dances. He’s more demanding, more forceful, and even a bit scary when he nips at your lips gently. You hear him growl deep in his throat and a shiver runs down your spine. He just told Dylan that you would be there for that meeting, so what could he possibly hope to accomplish in less than fifteen minutes?
He tears himself away from you with another little growl, his dark eyes smoldering. He takes a deep breath and smiles, giving your bottom a little pat before pulling away. “Come on. We don’t want to be late.” You’re a bit unsteady on your feet at the moment, but he leads you out anyway.
You’ve at least caught your breath before you enter the briefing room, but your lips feel as though they’ve swollen a bit. From the look on Beka’s face when she sees you, you’re willing to bet that they are. Rhade pours himself a drink from a crystal decanter before he takes a seat, pulling you onto his knee. Dylan gives him an irritated look. “Rhade, there are plenty of seats to go around.”
Your master swallows his drink. “Your point?” His free arm is draped casually around your hip and he traces your upper thigh in lazy patterns with one hand. The disapproval of the others in the room is almost tangible. “So, Dylan, you were saying something about rumors of a militia being formed?”
Dylan narrowed his gaze but made no further comment regarding you. “The word we’ve been getting from Seefra five is that one of the gangs is become a bit more organized. I wouldn’t call it a militia, more like a self-proclaimed governing body.”
“An extortionist squad ala Rbarton.” Beka gives a fake little smile, her expression bitter.
Rhade growls in his throat. “Thugs like Rbarton are like weeds; kill one and three more will grow up in their place.”
“Yes, well, it’s time to do a little gardening.” Dylan looks over at Rhade, his eyes resting briefly on you with something akin to pity. This doesn’t sit comfortably with you for some reason, making you bristle a bit. You don’t need his pity! “Rhade, I need you to go in and poke around, try to get the locals to talk to you.”
“That’s where Kitten comes in.” He gives your thigh a little pat. “She’s from the area where we’re going. She used to help her father in his business dealings and should know many of the people. With the general distrust of outsiders present in this system, I’m willing to bet they’ll be more likely to talk to her.”
“Dangerous plan, Rhade.” Beka gave him a little smirk. “What if you run across an old friend of the family who doesn’t like the idea that you’re leading her around on a leash?”
“I never put her on a leash, Beka. Those games are more your style, not mine.”
Beka gives a gasp of rage and starts to get up while reaching for her pistol. Dylan cuts them both off with a barked order to ‘stop’. “Both of you drop it!” He turns his gaze towards you. “Are you okay with doing this? It’s likely to be dangerous.”
Rhade’s hand gives your thigh a reassuring squeeze. The rest of him remains completely relaxed. You don’t know why, but you believe you can trust your master to see to your safety, no matter what. “I’m fine with it. I should be able to help.”
Dylan doesn’t seem entirely pleased with your answer, but he doesn’t say that you can’t. “All right then. By the time we get to Seefra Five it will be to late to do anything, so we’ll start in the morning. Everyone try to get some sleep.”
Rhade pats your let to signal for you to stand up as he drains the rest of his drink. He sets the glass down on the table and ignores Beka’s glare as he walks you out. A little ways down the hall he points to a door. “That’s the officer’s mess. The auto-chef should be working by now. Get us something to eat and bring it back to my quarters.”
You nod your understanding and he gives you a light squeeze about the shoulders before heading off. Doing as you’re told, you go into the galley and go over the selections that the machine can provide. Most of them you’ve never heard of. You’re still frowning in indecision when Andromeda’s image shimmers to being beside you. “Is there a problem?”
You jump in surprise. “No… it’s just that… I’m not sure what he likes.”
Andromeda’s image shifts, her hands clasped behind her back and her expression severe. “Personally, I believe he should starve.”
Another image of Andromeda, this one clearer, flickers into being on a screen to your right. “That action could get her into trouble. Telemachus Rhade was raised in a more sophisticated lifestyle than he presently endures. From past experience I can tell you that his favorite meals were often beef dishes. I would recommend the third choice.”
You look at the auto-chef and see that the third selection down from the top is labeled ‘Beef Wellington’. Since you don’t know any of the others, you ask for two servings. As you wait for the food you notice that the holographic image of the ship is watching you in confusion. “Is something wrong?”
“Harper has done an excellent job in getting my systems operational. I can now perform almost any task that I could before, including scanning the health of any person aboard this ship.”
You frown. “Is there something wrong with me?” You don’t feel sick. You feel quite well, actually.
“I am just having difficulty reconciling Rhade’s behavior with the fact that my scans show that you are not currently sexually active. In fact, you never have been even though Rhade is allowing everyone to continue believing that sexual activity is part of your required duties.”
You blink, surprised that the ship can tell that. Maybe there is something bad about letting technology get too smart. “It is not my place to question his actions.”
“Of course it is. You are a sentient, intelligent human being. It is beneficial to the development of humans to continually question what goes on around them. Of everyone on this ship, you are the best suited to question his motives.”
The version of Andromeda on the screen looks over at the hologram. “Rhade’s motives are likely rather transparent. He’s bored. He knows that Dylan and the others cannot abide by the idea of slavery, so he continues to maintain the appearance of keeping her as a slave just to see they’re reactions. Nietzcheans are not always tasteful in their games.”
You frown at the auto-chef. You never would have thought it would take this long. “What is a Nietzchean? I’ve never heard of them before meeting Rhade.”
The hologram looks over to the screen image of herself, which begins the explanation. “Nietzcheans are a race of genetically engineered humans, bred for survival in a variety of extreme conditions. The first Nietzcheans were created a little over sixteen hundred years ago by Dr. Paul Museveni and since that time have continued to increase in numbers. They have developed a culture based around the ideas of Nietzsche, Rand, Darwin, and Dawkin. They strive for genetic perfection and survival and they are often lead by the strongest males. The primary goal of a Nietzchean male is to become a husband to as many wives as he can and to father as many children as he can.”
“I didn’t understand over half of what you just said.”
The hologram of Andromeda inclines her head. “Not surprising since you’ve never encountered a Nietzchean before. In summary, Rhade is not behaving as a typical Nietzchean any longer. There are no others of his kind to interact with and the recent dependency to alcohol goes against all primary Nietzchean values. In short, he’s in a state of depression.”
“Oh.” The auto-chef beeps, signaling that it’s done. You collect the two plates of meat and vegetables, putting them on a tray to better carry them to the quarters you are to share with your master. “Thank you for your help.”
You turn to walk away, but the hologram speaks again. “Depression or not, that still doesn’t explain you. It’s obvious he’s not requiring you to perform any physically stressful tasks and he’s not sleeping with you, so why doesn’t he just give you your freedom? This game has gone on long enough for him to become bored with it by now.”
You pause. Why does he keep you around if he’s not going to make full use of you? “I don’t know. I’m just grateful that he does.” You don’t bother to explain further as you leave the room.
Rhade has stripped down to just his trousers by the time you return to the quarters with the meal. He smiles when he catches the scent of the food. “I’m starving.”
“The ship helped me select the meal. I’m sorry it took so long. The auto-chef was slower than I had thought it would be.”
He waves off your concerns. “No doubt Harper is still trying to work on getting the ship back up to speed.” He takes the tray from you. “Andromeda, privacy mode.” You think you heard the ship growl in frustration before there was an acknowledging beep. Rhade seems to have heard it, too, because he’s smirking again as he sets the tray down at a little table.
“Uhm… she scanned me.”
He looks up. “Scanned you? How do you mean?”
“When I was waiting for the food she was frowning at me. I asked her what was wrong and she said that she could tell that I’m… that we aren’t…” You falter off, not sure of how to word it. Rhade’s expression turns to one of irritation as he shoots the blank screen a dark look.
“Busy body.” He indicates for you to sit down and gets you both a drink. He knows you prefer water, that you enjoy being able to get it whenever you want it now, but he still pours liquor for himself. Both of you eat your meals in silence for a while. The food is very good. The meat and it’s wrapper of delicate pastry is a treat for you, as are the vegetables.
You take a drink of water from your glass after you’ve eaten your fill, your eyes darting towards Rhade who is now leaning back with a satisfied smile. “Rhade… why… why don’t we?”
He opens his eyes. “Hmm?”
You feel your face heat up. “It’s just that… the slavers felt that they could get so much for me because I could read and do math and because… because I hadn’t been with anyone in… that way. You don’t appear to have any intentions of selling me, but you still go out with those other women. I just… wondered why.” That was harder to say that you had anticipated it to be.
He tilts his head to one side, that now familiar smirk on his face. “You can’t even talk about it without blushing. I like my partners to be willing. Whores may cost money, but they’re willing. You didn’t ask for this life, someone forced it on you, and I’m not going to be the one who forces you even further.” His smile becomes warmer. “You’re my kitten, and you’ve got a bit more growing up to do before you’re a cat.”
He tosses a napkin at you, hitting you lightly in the face. “Clean this up and come to bed. I need you sharp for tomorrow.”
-------------------------------------------------
You’re frowning at your reflection in the mirror when Rhade comes in to fetch you. “Is something the matter?”
“I look different.”
He smiles. “Likely it is because you are no longer dehydrated and half-starving.” He comes up behind you, wrapping an arm about your waist and pulling you back against his chest so he can rest his cheek next to your temple. “Are you ready for this?”
“I’m ready.”
“Are you afraid?”
You ponder this question for a moment. “No, oddly enough I’m not.”
He places a kiss at your temple. “Good, you needn’t be. I’ll protect you.” You know he means it. “Let’s go.”
You take the Maru down to the surface of Seefra Five, landing a little ways out of the town. Rhade sticks close to your side as you make you way down the dusty trail that brings you to the center of the settlement, right in the heart of where the merchants hawk their wares. You see that someone has already taken over your father’s little metal shack and set up business for himself. It hurts like a knife stabbed into your chest. Rhade squeezes your hand as you press on.
You hear someone call your name and turn around to see one of the town elders approaching. You remember this man, the one who stood by and looked away when your father was beaten to death, the one who did nothing to save you when the slavers carried you off. Now he is smiling broadly at you like some favorite uncle who is seeing his niece for the first time in years.
Rhade moves forward to place himself between the two of you without blocking your vision. He reaches out a hand when the man makes a move as though to hug you, holding him away. “Can we help you, Friend?”
The elder falters, his fat face wrinkling in confusion. “I… I was just happy to see her. We were all so worried…”
“If you want to speak to her, you speak through me. And I don’t tolerate strangers putting their hands on my property.”
Understanding dawns on the elder’s face. “Of course. Forgive my presumption.” He casts what you suppose could be sympathetic look in your direction, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Welcome to our town. Is there any way I can be of service?”
Rhade smiles. “I doubt it, but I’ll be sure to let you know if something changes. Excuse us.” He takes you by the arm and walks you past the man. Almost immediately Dylan’s voice can be heard over the tiny transmitters you were both fitted with before you left the ship.
“Rhade, you are supposed to be gathering information.”
“I knew it.” Beka’s voice sounds biting and sharp. “He’s letting that possessive streak of his cloud his judgment. We should have sent her down there with Doyle instead.”
Rhade puts an arm about your shoulders and pulls you close as though to whisper in your ear. “That man obviously had nothing to offer that would be useful. We need a seedier contact.”
Something catches your eye at the shack you and your father used to run. “Rhade, I don’t recognize those men over there.” There are strangers, larger and better fed in appearance than the average people in this settlement. They seem to be keeping watch for something or someone, their movements guarded and furtive.
“You’re sure?” You nod an affirmative. “Dylan, we may have something.”
“Check it out, and be careful.”
Rhade makes a move towards the shack but you stop him. “There’s another way in.” He looks at you in askance. “That was my father’s shack. We had an escape route in case we were ever robbed.”
“Show me.”
You lead him through town, telling him nonsensical tales about growing up here to keep things non-threatening. When you reach the outer edge of the town you lead him to what looks like a forgotten pile of construction debris. You move aside a sheet of metal to reveal a small opening just barely large enough for someone of Rhade’s size to slip through. You move to enter, but he stops you to go first.
The tunnel is mostly natural with some widening here and there done by your father. Rhade pulls out his side arm in case you run into trouble. You try to stay close without being too close. As you near the end of the tunnel, however, you tap his shoulder to get his attention. He stops and allows you to work your way around so that you can reach the seemingly solid wall in front of you. Carefully, you move aside the panel to reveal a fine mesh screen that doesn’t allow much light, but does allow sound. The voices on the other side are male. Rhade urges you back behind him for your own safety as he listens.
“You’re certain we can get them?”
“We’ll get them. The tech will give us what we need.”
“What about that ship? The Andromeda? That Hunt and his gang keep pulling out new tricks all the time.”
“By the time Hunt knows what we’re here it’ll be too late. Are you in or out?”
The other man hesitates for a bit. “I’m in. When are we going to do it?”
“The weapons arrive tonight, along with Kale and another seventeen men. We take the town tomorrow, show them who’s boss. We’ll use this place as a base of operations.”
Dylan’s voice comes over the units. “I’ve heard enough. Rhade, get back to the Andromeda. We need to wait until the others arrive and you can’t take that many on your own.”
“Acknowledged,” Rhade whispers low before helping you to slide the panel back into place. Together you make your way back to the exit of the tunnel and return to the Maru. You move directly from the hangar to the briefing room. No one comments as Rhade pulls you into your customary position on his lap.
“So, we’re looking at twenty or more thugs with as of yet unknown firepower. Sounds like another walk in the park.” Beka taps her fingers on the tabletop.
“We’ll need you to keep the Maru prepped and ready to leave, Beka. Rhade, Doyle and I will move in on our friends.”
“What about me?”
“You’re staying here, Kitten. This is too dangerous for you.”
You look at Rhade with a frown. “But that place was my home. I know it better than any of you.” He gives you a little squeeze.
“I know, but you’re not trained for this kind of thing. You’ve shown me the tunnel, which will help give us the element of surprise, allowing us to hit them from two directions.
“Rhade’s right, Ki…” Dylan just can’t seem to bring himself to call you ‘Kitten’, “He’s got a point. We’d all feel much better if you stay here on the Andromeda.”
“Bu…”
“Hey!” You look at Rhade who is giving you a stern glance you’ve never seen before. “You’re staying here. Got it?” He looks as though he’s not going to take any more protestations, so you settle for giving a huff and crossing your arms.
“Got it.” He gives your hip a light swat for the pout.
“Go get something to eat. I’ll catch up with you later.”
You leave the briefing room and make your way to the officers mess and it’s auto-chef. Again you frown over the selections, wanting to try something other than what you had last night, but not sure what that should be.
“Stuck again?”
You jump and turn to see the hologram of Andromeda standing off to the side. “Aren’t you supposed to be with them in there? Discussing what to do?”
“I am. I am also here, and in the engine room, and on every level of this ship. Beka enjoys the lemon chicken.”
You look at the list of selections and place the order. “You sound busy.”
“I am always busy. Ideally this ship would have a crew of up to four thousand. Since I do not have a full crew I must see to much of the day-to-day workings on my own. Now that Harper has restored me to near full capacity, that task is much easier.” The hologram looks at you closely. “May I ask you something?”
You shrug. “What do you want to know?”
“Why do you tolerate this? You were not born into slavery, you were a free woman, and yet you accept Rhade’s claim of ownership over you. Why?”
“Why? At first it was because the options were clear. If Rhade had not agreed to take me in payment for the slaver’s debt to him, I would have been sold to the brothel on Seefra One, forced to have sex with any one who could pay for it. Afterwards, when Dylan tried to ‘free’ me, I examined my options.”
“Which were?”
“Starvation or having to have sex with anyone who could afford to pay for it. I was a young woman on my own, away from my home and town where I would have some hope of forming connections to start and maintain a business. I suppose I could have offered myself up as a wife to someone who needed one, but I wouldn’t have any control over what I ended up with that way. At the time, Rhade was the surest choice.”
“How could you know that?”
You shrug. “Just a feeling. He didn’t agree to take me until after the slaver mentioned that he would sell me to the brothel. That made me believe that he was kinder than he likes to let on. And I was right.” You smile as the hologram gives you a skeptic look. “He doesn’t mistreat me. He doesn’t beat me, starve me or yell at me. In fact, though I hate to say it, my father was meaner to me than Rhade. I’m much better off here than I was on Seefra Five.”
“You should be careful. That can lead to acceptance of your position. Before you know it, you won’t even be free in your own soul.”
“That’s rather deep for a computer.” The Auto-Chef beeps that it’s done and you collect your meal, claiming a seat at one of the empty tables. “But that’s not the only reason I stayed.”
“There was something else?”
You poke the meat experimentally with a fork. “He needs me.”
“How do you figure that?”
You feel your cheeks heat up. “He’s different when he’s sleeping. He holds onto me like I’m the only thing keeping him going. Maybe it’s silly to believe it, but I’m afraid he’d stop trying if I left.”
The hologram falls silent. You look up and find that she’s watching you with a puzzled frown on her forehead. The two of you remain that way for just a bit longer before she flickers out. You shrug and finish your meal.
Rhade meets up with you back at your quarters, but only long enough to tell you to stay out of trouble while he’s gone and to pick up some more weapons. He gives you a brief kiss before heading back out, leaving you to wait for him to come back, hoping that he’ll be all right. The chime of the door surprises you and you call for the person outside to enter.
Trance comes in, smiling her usual, gentle smile. “I thought you might like some company.”
“That would be nice.” The golden girl sits in one of the chairs close to you. “They leave you behind, too?”
“I’m still trying to get my bearings around here. They don’t want me to get hurt, just like Telemachus doesn’t want you to get hurt.”
“I feel useless.”
“You are not useless. I feel that I know Rhade well enough to know that he would not keep you around if he felt that you were useless. He must value you for him to keep you with him.”
“The rest of your friends don’t agree. They keep attacking him over it.”
Trance gives a gamine grin. “You and I both know that Rhade only acts as though he sees you as a slave because it does anger them. He’s playing with them.”
“The ship knows as well.”
“And yet she hasn’t given away the game. This is good for him, this distraction. You are good for him.” Trance gets up. “Would you like to see what he was like before?”
“Before coming to Seefra? How?”
The golden girl walks over to a screen on the lone desk present in the quarters. “When I got here I had trouble remembering faces and names, but I found records in various files within the ship. As Harper repaired more of Andromeda’s systems, the more I could uncover. I found visual records of Rhade when everything was better.” She waves you over to the desk. “Andromeda, please pull up the files on Rhade.”
The hologram flickered into being next to them. “Accessing.” A picture appeared on the screen of Rhade, but without the long hair and beard.
“He did wear uniforms.” You can’t keep the surprise out of your voice. The hologram arched a brow.
“Telemachus Rhade graduated Terazed’s military academy with the highest grades and honors in it’s three hundred year history. He was the youngest member of the Home Guard to ever attain the rank of Admiral. Before Terazed’s entrance into the New Commonwealth, he held a great deal of political influence and power.” The picture changes to one without a uniform, a more casual Rhade among other Nietzcheans. “At one time he was husband to seven wives and father to eighteen children.”
“At one time?”
Andromeda’s image frowns. “There is no record of why Rhade relinquished the titles of father and husband. It is not something he has ever spoken about, no Nietzchean likely ever would.”
“So you don’t know what happened?”
“I have… theories.”
Trance looks at the hologram. “You never told me that. What do you think might have happened?”
The hologram’s features harden. “Telemachus Rhade is what is known as a ‘genetic reincarnation’, the exact, or near exact, genetic structure of a previous Nietzchean. In this case it is Gaheris Rhade, an ancestor of his, and a traitor to the Commonwealth. He was Dylan’s first officer and best friend, but he betrayed him in favor of supporting his people in their rebellion against the Commonwealth. The Commonwealth did fall; our civilization fell into chaos. The Nietzcheans fell upon one another, fighting for dominance and power, all except those who fled with a few others to Terazed, where the old values and beliefs of the Commonwealth held firm.
“Gaheris’ betrayal was never known to those on Terazed until after they made contact with us. My theory is that Telemachus’ political enemies played up on his genetic identity to a traitor, thus bringing shame and dishonor upon him and his house. It is feasible that Rhade willingly distanced himself from his wives and children so that his offspring would have the chance to make a name for themselves, without the betrayal of Gaheris Rhade hanging over them.”
“That isn’t fair!” You feel incensed over the idea. “How could they hold what someone who had died before he was even born against him?”
Andromeda arches a single brow. “Politics is not about fairness. It can get brutal and messy. Telemachus Rhade was one of the leaders in the movement to keep Terazed isolated from the rest of the known worlds. Uncovering the betrayal of Gaheris Rhade would have been a powerful weapon in damaging his reputation and his stance in the matter. The isolationists would have been discredited on that alone.”
“So that’s likely why he took it off.”
You look back at Trance. “Took what off?” She points to a picture of Rhade in a sleeveless shirt. It was taken of him when he was sparring and he was still in a battle stance against another Nietzchean. What Trance is pointing to, however, is a band that is worn around his left bicep. “What is that?”
Andromeda zooms the view in on the band. It appears to be made of some kind of silver metal with glittering red gems accenting it. There is what appears to be a coat of arms in the center of a diamond shape ornament. “A Double Helix band. Nietzchean females give them to their husbands on their wedding night as a symbol of their union, much like wedding rings often exchanged between human couples. Each pride has it’s own design. The centerpiece is the pride’s coat of arms. The Majorum Pride helix was inspired by an ancient proverb from Earth: Who can find a virtuous woman, for her price is far above rubies. The legend is that the alpha who founded the pride was so taken with his first wife that he designed the double helix band himself, incorporating rubies into it to show how highly he considered her.”
Trance smiles. “That’s lovely.”
“That’s tragic. That he lost his family like that, I mean. It must have broken his heart.”
“Rhade is a Nietzchean. The safety of their children and their wives take precedence over all…” The hologram stops, her eyes apparently looking elsewhere. “They’ve completed the mission and are on an approach vector. Trance, Dylan has been injured and will need your help. Rhade has some minor injuries, Doyle and Beka are unharmed.”
“I’ll be in medical.” Trance hurries from the room after turning off the screen.
“I’ll wait here for Rhade.” The hologram nods her head in acknowledgement and flickers off.
You don’t have to wait for long. The door opens and a sweaty, dusty Rhade enters. He orders Andromeda to engage privacy mode as he strips off his weapons and lays them aside. With a weary ‘Hello, Kitten’, he strips off his shirt and throws himself face down across the bed, waiting for you to tend the bruises and the scratches and to ease him into slumber.
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Dylan’s injuries weren’t all that severe, just some scorching to the shoulder of his dominant arm. According to him it was more of an annoyance than anything else. Trance tended his wound, teasing him about what a poor patient he made. Rhade’s injuries were hardly worth mentioning. You cleaned up the cuts and massaged out the soreness until he had fallen asleep under your touch. Afterwards you had lain down to sleep. Upon sensing your added weight at his side he had reached out and pulled you into your usual place within the curve of his body. He was so tired after their excursion that you were glad when you could finally take him ‘home’.
“We couldn’t save the building. I hope it didn’t hold too much sentimentality for you.”
“No, it didn’t. Not really.”
“What’s the bottom line?”
You look up from the ledger. “You are solvent and then some.” He holds his hand out for the ledger and you hand it over. Scanning the columns he gives a pleased little smile.
“That last deal worked out better than I had anticipated, thanks to that little bit of information you overheard. It’s amazing how quickly a man will up the price he’s willing to pay to keep his wife from finding out about the little bit on the side.”
“I’m glad to have been of service.”
He smiles at you and closes the ledger with a snap before tossing it back to you to be locked up. You’ve been sitting on a crate while he watched you from his place on the bed. Now you get up to secure the ledger, hearing him shift his weight as he stands. “Let’s go get a drink. See what’s going on in town.”
You turn the lock and toss him the keys, smiling. “Lead the way, Oh Lord and Master.” You give him an exaggerated bow, but at least he laughs at your antics. When you stand back up he pushes you towards the door with a playful shove, locking the dwelling up behind you both.
The usual crowd is at the bar, minus Dylan. Rhade had mentioned something about Beka renting him the Maru on promise of death if he so much as scratched it. Doyle is watching Beka play cards with some rather unsavory looking characters. Trance and Harper are minding the bar. It looks as though Harper is trying to teach Trance a new drink. The golden woman spies you and waves you over. “Kitten! Come try this.”
“Trance, don’t call her ‘Kitten’.”
Trance looks at Harper in confusion. “But that’s what Rhade calls her.”
“Yeah, but he’s a schmuck.”
Rhade chuckles and pats you on your bottom. “Go on, and get me one while you’re at it.”
You get two of the new drinks from Trance, who seems rather proud of herself in having made them. But before you can carry them back to the table, however, she stops you. “I have something for you.” She pulls out a velvet bag and gives it to you. Whatever’s inside is heavy. “You can look at it later. Just don’t lose it.” She gives you a friendly, almost conspiratorial, grin as you slip the bag into one of the generous pockets of your dress. You pick up the glasses and walk them over to the table where Rhade has joined Beka to watch her play. As is customary, Rhade pulls you onto his lap, wrapping one arm around your waist and using the other to tend to his class.
“Gee, Rhade, it’s beginning to seem as though you don’t trust gravity.” Beka increased her bet.
“Nah, I just don’t want to get cold.”
“Nietzcheans don’t get cold.”
“Then I don’t want Kitten to get cold.” He squeezes you closer and watches the game proceed.
The drink Trance gave you is sweet, but strong. You’re pretty sure that Rhade doesn’t like it, but he’ll finish it all the same. You prefer it to the whiskey that he usually offers you. That stuff could strip the grime of the Maru’s hull, but he drinks it as though it were as tame as water.
You take another swallow from your glass and watch on. You’re not sure how to talk to Doyle, the part of you that has always been told technology is evil is still afraid of her. The Andromeda’s hologram is easy; she’s obviously not real. Doyle, on the other hand, looks like a flesh and blood person… but she isn’t. Beka, however, is a person. She strong and brassy, and usually has a huge chip on her shoulder. You’d like to be her friend, but you get the feeling that she disapproves of you because you’re so willing to accept your place as Rhade’s property. Trance accepts you as you are, even welcomes you. You have no idea what Harper thinks, other than he seems to live to insult Rhade. Dylan… you know what Dylan’s point of view is. He’s furious with Rhade for keeping you but needs his help too often to completely shun him. He’d like to ride in as your gallant knight and save you, but you don’t want saving. Rhade laughs about it and tells you that you’ve got the ‘boy scout’ off balance.
Rhade finishes his drink and sets the empty glass down. He gives you a gentle hug, rubbing the inside curve of your waist. “How about another? Whiskey this time. That last was too sweet for my tastes.” Well, you could have told him that. Still, you get up and take up the empty glass. Out of the corner of your eye you see one of those tramps shift away from the wall where she had been leaning.
You take the glass up to the bar and set it down. “Trance, whiskey this time.” She nods and starts to look for a new bottle, the one sitting on the bar having too little to make a full drink. Behind you there is the sound of a woman’s laughter and you look over your shoulder to see that the tramp has come over and draped herself over Rhade’s shoulders. A cold, hard feeling settles in your gut as you turn away.
“Found it.” Trance stands back up with the new bottle and starts to wrestle with the seal. You hear Rhade’s voice speak to the woman in a low tone. She giggles in response. You aren’t even aware that your fingers are gripping the glass until all the blood has left their tips. Trance takes hold of it and tugs. You let it go, your shoulders trembling. “Are you all right?”
You force a smile. “Fine. I’m just fine.” You can’t make out what he’s saying, but you’re pretty sure you wouldn’t like it. It’s different when you’re left at his place and he comes in later, their stench clinging to him. You don’t have to see it. You don’t have to watch them flirting with him, or his flirting back.”
Trance fills the glass and sets it before you. “Are you sure you’re all right?”
The tramp gives off another gleeful cackle, this one followed by one of his deep, throaty chuckles. “No, I’m not.” You bite out the words as you slap one hand over the glass and turn around, carrying it back to the table. The bitch is rubbing her grimy, cosmetic smothered cheek against his beard when you reach out with your free hand and grab a fist full of her hair, yanking her back harshly. She shrieks in surprise and pain as you bend her neck back as far as you can. “Be. Somewhere. Else.”
You fling her away with a wrenching motion from your arm. She stumbles, trying to catch her balance on heels that are too high for comfort, but she doesn’t have the decency to fall down. She looks as though she’s about to attack, but the glare in your eyes is obviously enough to make her think twice about it. Her face pales and she scrambles back quickly, finally turning to all but run from the bar.
The room is silent around you. It takes you a moment to get over being angry enough for you to realize that all eyes are upon you. The realization of what you just did comes crashing in and you turn quickly to look at Rhade. His face is expressionless as those dark eyes bore through you. Your other hand moves out to offer him the glass, which he accepts.
Beka takes a breath. “Rhade…” Her tone is inquiring, but she doesn’t seem to know what exactly she wants to ask. You can’t take your eyes from his as he drains the whiskey in one gulp, grimacing slightly as he swallows, and sets the glass back down.
“Hello, Cat.” He gets to his feet, his eyes still locked with yours. The patrons start to murmur to one another, the silence falling as he reaches out and takes you by the arm. Harper scrambles over the bar in a hurry.
“Uh… Rhade… Big Guy… how about I top off that drink for ya, huh?”
“I’m done for the for day, Harper.” He reaches into his pocket wish his free hand and tosses a few canal on the table. “Besides, Kitten and I have some things to discuss.”
“Rhade!” Beka stands up quickly, but he ignores her. You think she must have made a move to follow you as he begins to walk you from the building, because you hear Trance tell her that it’s going to be all right.
You’re grateful that the dwelling isn’t too far from the bar. You don’t know if your knees can remain solid enough to support your weight for much longer. He unlocks the door, pulls you inside and locks it back. You don’t know how he has the presence of mind enough to think of locking the door back, and your confusion must show in your face, because he smirks.
“Can’t have Beka barging in here, running to your rescue.” He pushes you against the cold stone of the narrow entranceway and brings his lips down upon yours. He tastes of heat and whiskey, the whiskers of his beard tickling against your skin. Now your knees do give way, but he keeps you from falling. When he breaks the kiss you find that you’re having difficulty in remembering how to breathe. “Are you sure?”
Are you sure? You certainly hope so, or otherwise he’s likely to be angry that you interrupted what could have been a pleasant evening for him. You nod in answer and are rewarded by one of those growls he lets out every now and again. Suddenly he is no longer holding you to the wall, but has you by the hand and is pulling you further into the dwelling and towards the bed. You hardly have time to register what’s happening before he has the simple dress you were wearing off and thrown aside.
Some small part of your mind realizes that, although he has lived in this same space with you for going on six months, he’s never seen you naked. He’s always respected your privacy, no matter what he has led the others to believe. You’ve seen him naked, the man certainly has no sense of modesty, false or otherwise, and you are certain that there isn’t another man anywhere in the Seefra system who comes close to matching him in physical beauty. Now, as he lays you down on the bed, he doesn’t seem to be in any hurry to undress himself other than to take off his shirt and throw it somewhere in the general vicinity of your dress.
Strong, battle calloused hands run over your skin. You shiver under his touch, gasping for air in desperation. Barely you register that he makes a contemplative sound before he removes his hands and straightens up, his legs straddling either side of you. You open your eyes and see that he’s removing the belt from his trousers. Once it’s pulled free from the loops he leans over you and reaches down behind the bed towards the frame. You crane your neck to watch his forearms, not certain what he’s up to until he pulls the belt ends back up, now securely wrapped around the frame that holds the mattress.
“Here, take hold of this and wrap the ends around your hands a few times.” You do as you’re told, frowning in puzzlement. He grins. “Good. Now whatever happens, don’t let go.”
“Rhade… wha…”
“Shh!” He puts a finger to your lips to silence you, his expression playful. “No matter what happens, don’t let go.” He accents each word by tapping your nose lightly. You don’t understand, but you tighten your grip on the belt anyway. A moment later he’s lowered his head to trail his lips over the curve of your throat. Instinct makes you shudder, but it also makes you pull at the belt in your hands. Suddenly things are becoming a bit clearer.
He takes his time, nipping and kissing his way over your skin. Playful touches used to raise the ire of his friends have taught him where you’re the most vulnerable as far as touch, but for some reason those places don’t make you break out in giggles anymore. Instead, under the heat of his lips and tongue, they make you sigh and moan. At one time runs his bone blades across the center of your stomach with a barely perceptible pressure, making the muscles there shudder in response. He finds the tender places right behind your knees and manipulate you into spreading your legs a bit wider.
He gives you a short respite to collect yourself and regain your breathing. By now every part of you is trembling and there is a little voice somewhere in your mind asking why you’ve let him wander off to those other women for this long. You swallow and try to form words, but you become conscious of the light scraping of his beard along the inside of one of your thighs. A new shiver comes over you as you feel him trail the tips of his fingers over the sensitive skin between your legs, just before his weight shifts a bit.
Oh… surely not…
Before you can form a coherent thought or protest, he throws you back into sensory overload. Strong arms keep you from bucking away from him as your own hands pull at the ends of the belt. You can dimly register the squeak of leather against metal but you’ve no idea how loud the sound truly is. You can’t hear much else over the sound of the blood pounding in your own ears. Everything seems too much to bear. Even the sensation of the blankets underneath your skin feels over exaggerated and maddening. You curl the toes of your feet into the bed in a vain attempt to relieve some of the pressure and you think you may be crying. Just when you fear that your sanity may slip away from you and you begin to wonder if you’ve made the right decision, everything shifts and all reason is lost.
Your vision seems grayed around the edges when you open your eyes look up. Rhade’s lips are next to your ear. He’s whispering to you, but you’re not yet able to make out what he’s saying. Instinctively you turn your head towards him. He kisses you and you can taste yourself on his lips. You hadn’t even known such a thing was even done. You’re not sure you would have believed it had someone told you.
“Who am I?” His warm breath tickles the skin by your ear, making you shiver.
“Telemachus Rhade.”
“Who are you?”
That is a very good question. Who are you? You know your name, your real name, but it had always seemed such a plain and ordinary name. No one had every said it in passion or in affection other than your parents from time to time. No one had ever teased you using it. You giggle briefly at the thought of going back to using it now. “I’m your Kitten.”
He chuckles, rich and deep, before shifting himself back over you and coming to rest between your legs. You don’t know when he had time to take his pants off, but you’re not really concerned about that at the moment. Slowly you come to the realization that your hands are no longer wrapped tight in the ends of the belt, because Rhade is massaging them firmly, coaxing the blood flow back in. You flex your fingers and lower your arms to run your fingers through his tousled hair.
He nips at your chin lightly as he runs one of his hands down to coax one of your legs over his hip. You feel him, hard and heated, pressing against you. The fit isn’t a comfortable one, but your body is still humming from before to the point that the discomfort is negligible. With slow, steady pressure he sinks into you. You feel a sharp tug from somewhere inside and a nasty little voice in the back of your mind points out that your value on the slave market just dropped in half. As two strong arms come up to wrap around you, that voice is banished into oblivion. You’ll never be on the market again.
He takes his time, moving at his leisure. The last of the pain fades, giving way to new sensations. The generous part of you almost feels sorry for the other women on Seefra One; because there is no way that you’ll tolerate his going anywhere else again. Even kittens have claws, and you’re quite sure that they’ll find yours rather sharp if they dare to come near him. As if to prove a point, you clench your fingers into his skin when he brings you to completion once more, this time joining you with a throaty growl.
Both of you relax bonelessly for a long moment before either of you can think enough to get under the covers. You realize that you’ve managed to throw off the pillows during the entire affair and it takes Rhade a moment to find where they’ve landed. Not that you mind, you’re afforded a nice view of his backside as he walks across the room to fetch the last one. One the way, however, he stubs his toe on something, letting out a stream of curses, some of which you don’t recognize. He prods the floor with his foot. “What do you have in your pockets?” He reaches down to fish the velvet bag from your dress.
“Oh, Trance gave me that. I don’t know what it is.”
“Trance, huh?” He tosses bag to you as he walks back over. “You should probably open it. She has an uncanny knack for acquiring the right things at just the right time.” He puts two of the pillows behind you and the other two on his side of the bed before crawling in beside you. It takes you a moment to untie the string and pull the bag open. You turn it over and dump out the contents onto the bedspread.
Two bands cast in matte silver metal fall out onto the bed. One is a little less than one inch wide, the other almost two inches. Each bears the coat of arms of the Majorum pride and is studded with rubies.
You stare at them in silent shock. Next to you, Rhade gives a short chuckle of disbelief. “One of these days, I’m going to figure out how the hell she does that.” He falls silent for a moment and you can feel the weight of his gaze upon you. “Well?”
You shake yourself back to the moment and look at him. “Huh?”
He seems to realize that you’re stumped and gives you a crooked grin. “Are you going to choose me as your husband and the father of your children?”
You frown at him, the gravity of the moment still not connecting well through the afterglow. “Who else would I choose?”
“Kitten? The bands? The wife is the one who makes the call.”
“Oh!” That’s right. Andromeda said that the Nietzchean females chose who their husbands would be. You move to pick up the wider band, but Rhade corrects you as to the order. It takes you a moment to manage the fastenings using only one hand, but you do get it secured. You pick up the other band and unfasten it. Rhade sits up so you can reach his arm, but you pause. “Uhm… I’m not too keen on the sharing thing.”
He smiles. “Somehow I think the rest of Seefra has already realized that.” He doesn’t move his arm away, but allows you to snap the band around his bicep with a click. The sound is somehow final, but also somehow signals a whole new beginning. He pulls you into his arms and kisses you tenderly before shifting both of you so that you are lying down to sleep.
He reaches up and turns off the last night in the room. You feel happy and content, lying in his arms. Just as you are about to surrender to slumber, you hear his voice rumble in the darkness.
“You do realize that now I have to find a whole new way to torment Dylan.”
~*~The End~*~