Enslaved Page 7

  “I see.” Trin relaxed a little though she kept her hand hovering over her blaster. “You weren’t with him when I first met him, I don’t think,” she remarked. “I’m certain I would have remembered you.”

  “As I would have remembered you, dear lady.” He bowed again and came up grinning. “As a matter of fact, I am relatively new here but I have quickly gained the confidence of our fine leader. You might even say I am his number Two male.” He laughed, as though he’d made a joke. Trin didn’t join in.

  “So where is B’Rugh?” she asked tightly. More and more she felt she didn’t like this tall thin male with his exposed brain and steel teeth. As a captain she had learned to trust her instincts and he gave off a bad vibe. A bad, crazy vibe. Every nerve in her body shouted, run! But she couldn’t—she had a deal to make.

  “B’Rugh is this way—waiting for you in his main receiving parlor. Or as the other denizens of this fine establishment call it—the Grog Hall.” He swept out one boney hand in an elaborately graceful gesture. “Ladies first?”

  “I’ll follow you,” Trin said tightly.

  “But I do not wish to be rude.” He opened his eyes wide—the left eye anyway—as though indicating his horror of the idea.

  “Females don’t expect special treatment where I’m from. We are more than equal to males so nobody needs to go first,” Trin said brusquely. “You know the way so you lead.”

  “Very well.” He nodded amiably enough and turned to sweep down the wide metal corridor ahead of her. Trin breathed a sigh of relief, glad to have that strange, crazy gaze off her face at least for a minute. She noticed that her host—B’Rugh’s number two male as he called himself—was wearing a strange garment. It was a long, black leather coat which fell from his boney neck to his black boots which made dull, clanking echoes on the metal floor. The coat fluttered against his ankles as he walked, almost as though it was alive.

  Weird. Very weird. She wondered if he was really who he said he was and if he was taking her to B’Rugh at all? If he’d tried to lead her off into one of the narrow, dark, side corridors she would have balked. But so far they were simply making their way down the wide main walkway.

  She did notice, however, that most of the watching males had somehow disappeared. And the one or two that remained had looks of fear rather than lust on their faces as they watched her walk past. Somehow Trin doubted the fear was for her. For some reason, even the largest thugs they passed were afraid of the tall, thin male who was leading her down the corridor. That made her even more wary of her companion but what could she do but keep following him?

  Just as she was about to get really nervous, they came to a place where the main corridor branched off into two smaller ones. In the exact center of the juncture was a strange, triangular door wedged into the crease between the corridors.

  “In here,” her companion said, turning briefly to smile at her. “I hope you’re thirsty—it’s considered very rude to refuse a drink offered by your host here.”

  “Is that right?” Trin said neutrally.

  “Oh yes—which is why I mention it. I know you don’t wish to upset or offend the estimable B’Rugh.” He flashed that grotesque, steel grin again and swung open the triangular door, ducking a little to go in as the narrow point of the triangle was at the top.

  Trin followed him carefully, keeping her eyes open and her hand on her blaster as she stepped through the door into the dim room. She didn’t want to get cut off from her exit so she halted just a step inside the threshold and let her eyes get used to the low lighting.

  Sure enough, sitting at the end of a black-grass table on the far side of the room was B’Rugh. The black-grass—which was a kind of soft fungus especially prized for its ability to keep gems and precious metals polished and bright simply through contact—was cut short. On it a gleaming pile of Jaxite crystals was heaped in a shiny, untidy pyramid.

  Trin’s eyes widened as she looked at the crystals. Even from across the room she could tell they were perfect—already cut to the right size and shape for the dream-gas refineries of Yonnie Six. The perfect acquisition—these crystals would more than make up her debt if she could sell them to some wealthy mistress. Of course, how she would get anyone to deal with her since she was going to turn Thrace loose and had no one else to act as her body-slave, Trin had no idea. But that was a problem for another day. Right now she simply had to make the deal and get her hands on those crystals.

  “They are beautiful, no?” The thick, burbling voice sounded to Trin, as always, like someone talking underwater with a mouthful of mud. She raised her gaze reluctantly from the small but valuable pile of Jaxite to their owner.

  B’Rugh was a Lud’om—a race that had evolved on the mud flats of Lud, a planet which had a very wet environment. In fact, he himself looked like he might be made of mud. His mottled brownish-green skin was covered in hand-sized patches of slime and seemed to flow over his body in a way that was both disturbing and mesmerizing—a constantly shifting mass even though he himself was sitting quite still in his chair. His facial features were like drooping dough and Trin had the idea that if she reached out to touch his cheek—or indeed, any part of him—her fingers might sink in. Only his eyes—steady, yellow and calculating—didn’t change.

  “Greetings. B’Rugh,” she said, stepping forward. “It’s good to see you again—I was glad to get your message about the Jaxite.” She nodded at the pile of crystals on the soft black mat of fungus in front of him. “I have our agreed upon price and I’m ready to deal.”

  “A drink first, I think,” B’Rugh burbled thickly. “One cannot deal with a dry throat.” As if anything about him was dry.

  Trin shifted uneasily. She didn’t like the idea of letting anything but air pass her lips in this hostile environment. Still, she remembered the warning B’Rugh’s second in command had given her. She didn’t wish to offend and she did have a ring with a toxin sensor on her right hand. It ought to pick up any poisons or toxins that someone might have tried to slip into her cup.

  “Of course,” she said, nodding. “A drink to seal the deal.”

  “Good.” B’Rugh nodded to his number two male. “Drinks.”

  The male with the steel teeth bowed obsequiously.

  “At once, my liege.”

  He went to a bar behind the table and busied himself with a number of glass and metal bottles.

  “Very well.” B’Rugh looked at her. “Sit, please. As we are waiting, perhaps you would care to inspect one of the crystals?”

  “Of course.” Trin took a seat opposite him and steeled herself not to flinch as he picked up one of the Jaxite crystals with oozing fingers and placed it in her palm. The Lud’om’s touch was cold and slimy and a bit of his brownish goo was stuck to the crystal. Trin flicked it away as unobtrusively as she could and examined the silver-blue depths of the Jaxite.

  It was perfect—brilliant and clear and multifaceted. The color reminded her of something—Thrace’s eyes, that was it. The pale, sparkling color was exactly the same. But it was the ring of black around his iris that made his gaze so piercing…so penetrating.

  “…to you,” B’Rugh said and she realized she’d missed the first part of his sentence.

  “I’m sorry, what?” she asked while inwardly scolding herself. She was in a serious negotiation—now was not the time to be thinking of the big Havoc.

  “I said, you may consider that particular crystal as my gift to you,” B’Rugh repeated.

  “Oh…well, thank you.” Trin gave him a grateful nod of her head. “That’s most generous. But please allow me to pay you the price we agreed upon for the others.”

  “Of course. Let me see the color of your coin.” B’Rugh made a motion with one hand, indicating she should produce her credit.

  This was the tricky part. Keeping one hand on her blaster, Trin reached under the back of her plain black shirt with the other and unhooked the money belt. She placed it on the table and opened it, giving B’Rugh a discreet
glance inside so that he could tell she had the correct number of golden credit chip-coins. Then she took one out and handed it to him, as he had handed her the crystal.

  “Perfect.” B’Rugh nodded and gave the coin back. Then he took out a small black bag, which was lined in the same black-grass fungus that covered the table, and swept the shining pile of Jaxite crystals into it.

  Is it really going to be this easy? Trin felt a cautious surge of optimism as she began counting out her pile of coins. It seemed the Lu’dom was actually going to do a straightforward deal. But she would wait to celebrate until she had the crystals in hand and was back aboard The Alacrity.

  At that moment, the male with the steel teeth came over and set two identical metal goblets in front of her and B’Rugh.

  “Semlina wine—the first pressing—infused with essence of fireflower and enhanced with a secret ingredient of my own,” he announced, grinning broadly to show those awful teeth. “Enjoy.”

  “A secret ingredient?” Trin looked doubtfully at the blood-red liquid.

  “Nothing harmful, I assure you. It should greatly enhance your experience.”

  “I see.” Trin nodded and waved her right hand unobtrusively over the top of the wine. The tiny toxin sensor’s light remained a reassuringly steady green without even a flicker of red. Well, so at least the “secret ingredient” wasn’t poison.

  “To a deal well done,” B’Rugh burbled and raised his goblet, his fingers oozing over its metal stem.

  “A deal well done,” Trin echoed and took a sip. The liquid made her lips and tongue tingle in a strange way but other than that she felt no ill effects.

  “Excellent,” B’Rugh said, holding out the sack to her.

  Trin reached for it, while holding out the correct number of chip-coins in her other hand towards him. In another moment the deal would be done…

  But B’Rugh held back, not quite taking her money or giving her the sack of crystals.

  “As you have the correct currency, and I have the crystals, all we need is for your mate to effect the exchange,” he said.

  “My mate?” Trin said blankly. “What do you mean?”

  “Your mate—the male you are mated to.” B’Rugh raised one oozing eyebrow at her. “Do you say to me that you have no male to help effect the exchange?”

  “Why would I need one?” Trin asked, honestly mystified.

  B’Rugh frowned, an expression that made it look as if his entire face was melting.

  “My culture does not allow me to have hand-to-hand dealings directly with a female.”

  “What do you mean? You just handed me a crystal,” Trin pointed out.

  “Ahh, but that was a gift, my dear. I am talking about business transactions. There must be a male here to effect the exchange. To take the crystals from my hand and place them in yours and to take the coins from your hand and place them in mine.”

  “How about if we just leave both on the table and switch seats?” Trin suggested. “Then I can pick up the crystals and you can pick up the coins without any contact involved at all?” That would suit her just fine. She didn’t particularly want to handle anything else that had B’Rugh’s slime on it. But the Lud’om was shaking his head ponderously.

  “Impossible,” he burbled, looking positively offended. “I cannot even think of such a thing.”

  “Well, what are we supposed to do, then?” Trin demanded. Her lips and tongue were still tingling and now the tingle was spreading to the rest of her mouth. She wished it would stop—the sensation was very distracting.

  “Seeing that you have no mate with you to effect the transaction, I might be willing to provide one,” B’Rugh suggested.

  “Provide me a mate? As in, marry me off to someone?” Trin frowned. “I don’t think so.”

  “It would only be a temporary arrangement, of course. Just to get the transaction done.” He smiled which made his face look like it was melting upwards.

  “A temporary mate,” Trin mused. “And who exactly were you thinking of for this venture?”

  “Why, myself of course.” B’Rugh widened his small, yellow eyes. “Whom else?”

  Trin sighed. “Look, B’Rugh—if you’re trying to get more credit out of me by tacking on some kind of matchmaker’s fee, you’re out of luck. This is everything I’ve got.” She nodded at the pile of gold credit-chip coins on the soft black fungus in front of her. “You and I both know it’s a fair price and you’re not likely to find another buyer who’s willing to come all the way out here to you in person. So why don’t we just—”

  “Oh—no, no my dear.” B’Rugh held up one oozing hand to stop her. “There is no need of a monetary compensation.”

  “So…what? I marry you for fifteen minutes so that you can give me the crystals and I can give you the coins and then we go our separate ways?” Trin raised an eyebrow at him. All her instincts were on high alert. The Lud’om was definitely up to something.

  “Well, for a bit longer than fifteen minutes,” B’Rugh said. “In point of fact, you would have to spend one night in my bed in order to make the joining legal and binding. Then, the next day, the deal could be effected and you would be able to leave.”

  Trin swallowed hard, trying to keep her gorge from rising.

  “A night in your bed? Are you asking me to prostitute myself to you in order to do this deal?”

  “Certainly not!” B”rugh protested hastily. “My culture does not allow such things. I am speaking of a temporary joining or marriage—whatever you wish to call it. But of course, I would have certain privileges as your mate.”

  Trin was beginning to feel genuinely ill—it didn’t help that the tingling in her mouth had turned to a kind of numbness.

  “And what…” She could hardly make herself go on. “What kind of privileges would those be?” she finally managed to get out.

  B’Rugh’s yellow eyes gleamed in his sagging, doughy face.

  “Why the privilege of penetration, of course. I will hold you in my arms and envelope you with my slime.” He indicated the dripping greenish-brown ooze that covered his body. “Once you are completely enfolded, I will slide my member within you and—”

  “Stop!” Trin held up a hand, unable to hear any more. “What…what would make you even think of such a thing?” she demanded, glaring at him. “You and I…we’re not even the same species. Not even close.”

  “The color of your skin—that rich, creamy brown. I have never seen another female of your kind with such coloring. I find it…most erotic.” B’Rugh’s gurgling voice had gone thick with lust. “I makes me wish to fill you with my member and see if you are as soft and lush as you look.”

  “I’m from Zetta Prime and we don’t…don’t do that. With any male,” Trin told him.

  “Maybe you could make an exception…just for one night.” Those yellow eyes gleamed in his melting face.

  His words made Trin think of the conversation about penetration she’d had with Thrace the night before. But imagining such a thing with the huge Havoc had made her feel hot and cold and strange all over. She’d had a clear feeling it was wrong—but of course, she’d always known that because of the way she’d been raised on Zetta Prime. However, the idea of letting Thrace fill her with his shaft hadn’t disgusted or repelled her. The idea had simply made her feel…strange and guilty.

  The idea of letting B’Rugh fill her with his slimy cock and wrap her in his oozing arms filled her with a different feeling entirely. Nausea. Looking at the Lud’om and imagining going to bed with him made sour bile rise at the back of her throat. She wanted some water to wash the horrible taste away from her mouth but there was nothing but the strange, blood-red wine. Blindly she reached for it…

  Only to have it knocked out of her hand.

  “Sorry, but you can’t drink any more of that,” a familiar voice said. “That bastard with the steel teeth laced it with passion berries. Another sip and you’ll be in serious trouble.”

  Trin looked up in surprise to
see Thrace standing over her. The big Havoc was still wearing only the tight black leather pants and leather boots he’d had on when she bought him but now he was also carrying a blaster. She’d gotten so used to seeing him lying down, chained to the cot, she had forgotten how huge he really was. He was like a mountain of muscle towering over her and she had no idea why he was there.

  Apparently B’Rugh didn’t either.

  “Who are you and how dare you interrupt our negotiations?” The Lud’om sounded most displeased.

  “Don’t remember me, do you?” Thrace gave him a fierce grin. “We met a few cycles back when your people tried to take over the mud flats on my home planet.”

  The yellow eyes narrowed. “I do remember you, now. It was your leadership that kept us from completely conquering the Havoc home world. Thrace, isn’t it?”

  Thrace nodded. “In the flesh.”

  “But that still doesn’t explain what you’re doing here or how you’re involved with the lovely Trin.” B’Rugh nodded at her.

  “That’s Captain Trin to you,” Thrace growled. “She’s the owner and captain of a star ship—not some cheap prosti-whore you can buy for a night of what passes for pleasure with you, B’Rugh—you fucking slimy bastard.”

  B’Rugh stiffened—as much as a being that appeared to be made of oozing mud could be said to stiffen.

  “I would never presume to ‘buy’ her as you put it. But she must have a mate to effect our transaction. I was actually doing her a favor, offering to act in this capacity myself so that the sale can go through.”

  Thrace snorted. “Right. As if any female forced to sleep with you would consider it a favor. Fucking mud-slug.”

  Privately, Trin agreed with everything the big Havoc was saying but he wasn’t being very diplomatic. There was nothing she wanted more than to stand up and punch B’Rugh in the jaw—or maybe just shoot him with her blaster. She was afraid her fist would get stuck in his face if she actually punched him. But giving in to those impulses wasn’t going to get her the Jaxite crystals.