Enslaved Read online

  “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