Sholpan Read online

  “Nothing out of the ordinary. If it gives you any comfort, this is the same food that we servants eat.”

  “Then take some,” she said, pushing the bowl across the tray to him.

  Narju gave her a puzzled expression, but took the spoon from her hands and dipped it into the mush. Stella relaxed a little when he lifted it to his mouth and ate, but that didn’t quell all of her suspicions.

  “You needn’t be afraid of poison,” he said, pulling a rag from one of his pockets and wiping the spoon clean before returning it to her. “I assure you, I would never do such a thing to you.”

  Stella said nothing. Narju folded the rag carefully and returned it to his pocket before addressing her again.

  “Master Qasar is away for the moment. He shouldn’t return for a few day cycles, and even when he does, it will be some time before he summons you.”

  So I have some time, Stella thought to herself. But not much.

  She dipped the spoon into the synthmeal and took a bite. To her surprise, the tannberry flavoring was quite delicious. Narju had added some sort of flakes to the dish, improving the texture and making it slightly crunchy. With a little effort, she could imagine she were at home, enjoying a fresh bowl of—

  No. That way lay madness.

  “Is there anything else I can do for you?” Narju asked.

  “Not really.”

  “Then I should be off.”

  “Wait!” she said, stopping him just before he parted the beads. He turned and glanced at her over his shoulder.

  “Yes, milady?”

  “Never mind,” she said, thinking better of it. The shock of waking up in this strange place had passed, and she felt much better now. Besides, she needed time alone to contemplate her next move.

  “As you wish,” said Narju. “Should you need any assistance, press the red button on the access panel to summon me. I live to serve you.”

  “Thank you,” said Stella. She waited until the beads stopped swaying before returning to her meal.

  I have to get out of here.

  * * * * *

  A little over a week after her arrival on the Hameji ship, Stella made her move.

  She waited until lights-out on the deck, when the halls were empty. With everything quiet and her roommate sound asleep, Stella slipped out of her bunk and crouched by the open doorway. Lying face down on the floor so as not to upset the beads, she crawled silently on her stomach into the hallway.

  Her breathing came in short, silent gasps as she crept along the wall toward the elevator. She passed only two intersections on her way there, and both were empty. Still, she had those guards at the upper level to worry about. The moment she stepped out of the elevator alone, they would stop her.

  Fortunately, she’d planned for that. In her right hand, she carried a small crystal bowl that she’d taken from her quarters. She pressed it tight against her chest and crouched behind a nearby set of drapes, her heart racing.

  “Servant!” she called out. “Servant!”

  She waited in silence in the shadow of the drapes. The seconds dragged by, and the crystal bowl grew slick with the sweat of her hand. Why hadn’t the servant come yet? Nearly a minute had passed, and yet—

  The footsteps in the darkness were soft, yet swift. Stella caught her breath and stole a peek down the hall. Sure enough, one of the eunuchs was approaching—his white shirt stood out in the faint blue glow of the night-lights that ran along the floor. Only a few more moments and he’d pass her.

  Please go down quietly, Stella inwardly pleaded. She didn’t know what she’d do if the servant cried out when she hit him—or worse, if the blow actually killed him.

  He was close enough now that she could see his sandaled feet in the soft blue light. They were thin and bony. Her hands trembled and her feet felt rooted to the spot, but she lifted the bowl above her head, readying herself for the strike.

  Steady, steady—NOW!

  A sudden burst of adrenaline surged through her as she sprung into action. In an instant, she leaped from her hiding place and swung downward with all her might.

  It was over before the eunuch had time to react. The glass bowl thudded against the back of the servant’s head and shattered. He grunted and collapsed; Stella fell on top of him.

  She quickly sat up and looked at the man. He lay facedown, arms by his side—he’d made no attempt to stop his fall.

  Please be all right, Stella thought desperately to herself, checking his pulse with her fingers. I didn’t want to kill you. Please don’t be dead.

  His pulse was strong; he wasn’t dead, only knocked out—exactly as Stella had wanted. She almost sighed in relief, but caught herself in time. She’d made too much noise as it was.

  The bathroom lay between the common room and the elevator. Stella expected the place to be empty at this hour, and she wasn’t disappointed. The toilets were only separated by thin cloth hangings, but so long as she hid the unconscious servant in the last stall, she should be safe, assuming he didn’t wake up.

  The bead curtains clattered as she entered the room, but that couldn’t be helped. As the automatic lights switched on, she passed swiftly inside, hoping that no one would see her drag the servant to the end of the room. His body was heavier than she’d expected, and his sandals made a rough scraping noise on the tile floor, but fear and adrenaline kept her moving.

  In a few seconds she was safe in the stall. Working quickly, she stripped the servant of his white smock and trousers, leaving him in his underwear.

  Without wasting any more time, she slipped out of her nightgown and tore three strips from it, long and narrow. Ignoring her nakedness, she flipped the unconscious servant on his stomach and tightly bound his hands and feet, using the third strip to gag him. She then tore a wider strip from the remains of her dress and wrapped it tightly against her chest, flattening her breasts. Only then did she don the servant’s clothes and step out from the stall.

  She took a moment to check her work in the mirror. The smock was a bit large for her, but it was good enough; if anything, the bagginess would only aid in disguising her figure. With her hair pulled back in a ponytail, she could easily pass for a servant.

  She checked the shirt’s inside chest pocket. Sure enough, the card was there.

  The elevator ride passed in a blur. Her heart raced in her chest, and the sweat on the back of her neck quickly grew cold. She leaned against the wall of the car for support and prayed that the ruse would work.

  Sure enough, a pair of guards were standing watch outside the door. They perked up as she stepped out, but she gave them a nod and continued through to the corridor, keeping her head carefully turned so that they wouldn’t see her eyes.

  Please, God—please.

  It worked. Behind her, the soldiers grunted and returned to their posts.

  Excitement flooded through her, and it was all she could do to keep from running. Of course, that was the one thing she couldn’t do. Here on the main level, the lights were as bright as at any time; it would only take one person peeking around the corner to spot her.

  Fortunately, she had a good idea where the main hangar would be. The ship was clearly Belarian, and their passenger liners all followed a similar design.

  The upper decks could not have been more different than the concubines’ quarters. Here, Stella saw no decorations, no silks or tassels or shaggy carpets—only cold tile floors and off-white walls. The corridor was lit with harsh fluorescent lighting, and the air was noticeably cooler. Stella shivered and hugged her chest to shield herself from the cold.

  The worst, though, was the feeling that someone was watching her.

  Thankfully, she made it to the end without any incident. The corridor teed at this point, with a particularly large elevator door on the opposite wall. Stella was willing to bet that if she took it down, it would lead her straight to the hangar bay floor.

  Both sides were clear. Stella stepped forward and keyed the access pad; the elevator door hissed open.<
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  “Yah!” someone shouted off to her right. A bolt of fear shot through her, bolting her to the spot. For an instant, she thought of running, but realized she had nowhere to run. Instead, she leaped inside the elevator and slammed her thumb against the lowest button. Out in the corridor, she saw a man running towards her, a gun in his hand. Soldiers followed close behind him.

  The door closed just in time. Her stomach flipped as the elevator quickly dropped a level, but at least she had time to catch her breath.

  As soon as the doors reopened, Stella bolted out at a dead run. She didn’t have much time—she had to find a hiding place. Fortunately, the large, high-ceilinged room was full of crates and boxes. Several unloading cranes dangled from the ceiling, and the wall on one side was a giant door—a hangar door.

  Her heart leaped in her chest. This was a freight hanger—she was in the right place. She didn’t see any shuttles, but with luck, they weren’t too far away.

  Behind her, she heard the elevator doors hiss shut. In only a few seconds, she knew, the soldiers would be after her. She ran frantically down a long row of shipping crates and slipped into a narrow crack just as the doors hissed open again.

  Shouting and footsteps echoed throughout the large room. Her heart pounding, Stella scooted to the wall at the end of the crack. There was just enough space behind the pile on her left for her to hide, if she sucked in her stomach and squeezed.

  She got there not a moment too soon. The soldiers quickly filled the hangar, searching for her. The noise of their shouting and footsteps echoed off of the walls.

  Stella’s legs went numb, and her breath came in short gasps. She didn’t know how long she could hold out, but she forced herself to remain calm and wait.

  The shouting came steadily closer. She closed her eyes.

  Without warning, a gunshot ricocheted off the wall next to her, filling the narrow space with terrible noise. She screamed and covered her head. Shouts sounded above her, and the face of one of the soldiers peeked over the top of the pile of crates to stare down triumphantly at her. Stella’s muscles turned to water, and she watched in horror as he lifted his gun.

  He didn’t shoot her, though—only shouted and motioned for her to come out. For several seconds, she was too frightened to move, but the harshness of his voice soon compelled her forward.

  How did they find me? she wondered, making her way inch by inch through the narrow space. More than a dozen soldiers waited for her on the other side.

  As she neared the opening between crates, a hand seized her roughly by the arm and pulled her out. As she spilled onto the floor, something prodded her in the stomach and an electric shock surged through her body. She cried out in pain as her legs and arms spasmed uncontrollably.

  “What are you doing? Stop!” Another shock hit her in the shoulder, filling her arms and chest with pain. She tried to resist, but her body was unresponsive.

  Her vision blurred, and time slowed down as the pain overwhelmed her. One of the soldiers reached down and took her by the hair. Her eyes widened in panic as he stared hungrily at her.

  Before he pulled her up, however, she heard the sound of a familiar voice. The soldiers stopped and looked away, moving aside to let the newcomer through.

  It was Narju.

  He was talking with the soldiers—no, arguing was the better word. They didn’t seem too happy to see him, and glanced from him to her with undisguised malice. Still, after several minutes of deliberation, they turned and left the room. The sound of their footsteps gradually died away, until the hiss of the elevator doors marked their exit.

  “How do you feel, Sholpan?” Narju asked, kneeling by her side. “Did they hurt you much?”

  Too exasperated to speak, Stella sat up and broke down into tears.

  “Here, let me help you.” He took her by the waist and supported her as she rose to her feet. Her legs gave way, but he caught her before she fell. She wiped the tears from her eyes and turned to face him.

  “Why did you come after me?” she asked. “How did you know I was here?”

  “I came because I am your servant,” he told her. “As for finding you, it was not difficult, considering the tracking chip implanted in your ankle.”

  Stella froze and looked down at her ankle, where the doctor had made the incision. So that’s what that was, she thought to herself in dismay.

  “All of us have one,” Narju said, lifting his pant leg to show a similar scar on his foot. “It allows the Hameji to monitor us. The moment you left the concubines’ quarters, they knew you were trying to escape.”

  “What can I do, then?” she asked, her voice cracking. “I need to get out of here, Narju. I can’t stay in this place.”

  “I’m sorry, mistress,” he said softly. “The tracking chips are triggered to sound an alarm if tampered with or removed. I’m afraid you cannot escape.”

  “Don’t you understand?” she yelled, her voice becoming frantic. “Don’t you have any idea what they’re going to do to me? They’re going to rape me, Narju—not just once or twice, but night after night for the rest of my life!”

  “Sholpan,” he said, looking her gently in the eye. “Please, be calm.”

  Stella wanted to scream and run away, even if it brought the soldiers down on her again. Something about Narju calmed her, though. She stayed where she was.

  “You are a good girl,” he said. “I do not want to see you hurt. I understand what you are going through, though you may not believe me.”

  “Oh you do, do you?”

  “Yes, I do,” he said, his face falling. “I was once a prisoner as yourself, many long years ago. The Hameji tortured me for several months before they took away my manhood, and I know I am destined to spend the rest of my life as their slave.”

  Stella felt a pang of regret for her snide comment. “I’m sorry.”

  “No apology is necessary. Please believe me when I tell you I mean you no harm.”

  “I believe you,” she whispered.

  “Then listen to me, Sholpan. You must forget about your home. Forget your past life. Leave it behind you.”

  “No,” Stella said, shaking her head. “I can’t.”

  “Your hope is false, Sholpan—it will only destroy you. Even if you managed to escape, the Hameji would retaliate by slaughtering all those whom you love. If you truly love them, leave them.”

  “I can’t,” she repeated, her whole body growing tense. She tried to hold back the tears, but they could not be stopped. Deep down, she knew that Narju was right.

  He smiled mournfully at her and took her gently by the wrist. “Come, Sholpan” he said. “Let’s go.”

  Chapter 3

  “You’ve been awful quiet these past few days, darling,” said Tamu from the pile of pillows on which she lay. “Is anything the matter? You have to open up sometime—you’ll go crazy if you don’t.”

  Yes, Stella wanted to scream. Everything’s the matter. Instead, she lay in silence on her bed and stared at the underside of the top bunk.

  Tamu laughed, surprising her. “Are you scared of me, dear? Goodness! I don’t bite—really, I don’t.”

  “It’s not that,” said Stella.

  “Oh? Then what is it?”

  “It’s …” Stella’s voice trailed off. Tamu was so unlike herself—so sensual and voluptuous, even around other women. How could she possibly understand what Stella was going through?

  “I think I know, honey,” Tamu said, sitting up on the couch. “The first few weeks are hard for everyone; it’s not easy to let go and start a new life. But trust me, dear—if you keep to yourself, you’re only going to make it worse. Come out and meet the other girls. It’ll do you good.”

  Stella shuddered at the thought. From what she could see, all the other women were perfectly content to be playthings for the most brutal, barbaric warmongers in the known universe. Stella never wanted to be like them, even if she spent the rest of her life in this place.

  “I don’t think that�
��s a good idea,” she said.

  “Nonsense! Come, let me introduce you to—”

  “No. I mean, thank you, but no.”

  Tamu sighed. “All right, dear, but I’m only trying to help. If you don’t start making friends, how do you expect to adjust?”

  “That’s not it,” Stella said. “That’s not it at all.”

  “Then what’s bothering you, dear?”

  “It’s—you wouldn’t understand.”

  “Oh? Try me.”

  Stella felt weak and dizzy. She closed her eyes and took in a deep breath.

  “It’s, it’s just—I’m not ready to be Qasar’s—” She rolled over onto her face and buried her head in her hands.

  “There there, honey,” said Tamu from the couch. “Don’t cry. Most of us left someone special behind. What’s his name?”

  “No,” Stella said quickly. “It’s not that.”

  “Oh really? Sholpan, dear, I’m your roommate—you can tell me anything.”

  Stella hesitated. Lars didn’t have much to do with her fear of sleeping with Qasar, but it wouldn’t be good if Tamu thought she was hiding something.

  “Well, there was this one guy,” she started.

  “Oooh!” Tamu’s eyes lit up, and she leaned forward with her head cradled in her hands. “Tell me all about him. Was he cute?”

  “Yes,” said Stella, blushing instantly.

  “What was his name? How did you two know each other?”

  “His name was Lars. We kind of grew up together, I guess.”

  Tamu smiled. “Aww, that’s sweet! So when did you both realize you had a thing for each other?”

  “Er, I don’t know,” said Stella. She didn’t like where this conversation was going.

  “What was that, dear? Speak up; don’t be shy.”

  “We weren’t—that is, we were never really together.”

  “No? Did you ever hold hands? Kiss? Sleep together?”

  “No, no!” said Stella, shaking her head as her cheeks flushed red with embarrassment.

  “You never did anything with him? Why not?”