It was nearly the noon hour by the time she arrived at the small, back-corridor door that was the service entrance to the hostel. A tall Saurellian guarded the entryway, and another was seated just inside the door. Both scrutinized her identity chit closely before allowing her to go through to Mistress Jenner’s office, located off the kitchen. They’d seen her before, of course, but it didn’t stop them from thoroughly checking her identity. The Saurellians might like to party, Calla thought, but they were all business when it came to security.
“I’ve gotten all the supplies,” she said when her middle-aged owner looked up and acknowledged her with a grunt. Jenner was sitting at her desk, all three hundred pounds of quivering flesh tucked into a chair that was far too small for her massive body. Jess, with his dark sense of humor, had gone so far as to take bets among the slaves as to when the chair would break. “Here’s the list,” Calla said. “The deliveries should be complete by this afternoon.”
Jenner reached up a hand for the small transaction pad Calla carried. Calla’s fingers brushed against those of her mistress as she handed the pad over, and as usual she had to suppress a small shudder at the feel of Jenner’s skin. They were cold and dry, like a snake’s. Or at least like Calla imagined snake skin would feel. She’d always thought of Mistress Jenner as snake-like, with her staring eyes and stale scent.
Her mistress was cold and cruel, something Calla had seen demonstrated time and again over the years.
Jenner cared only for herself and her profit, no matter that she professed to be a devout spiritual Pilgrim.
Of course, most of the Pilgrims seemed that way to Calla. Their religion was simply a way to justify their selfish actions, as far as she could tell.
“You’ve done all right,” Jenner said grudgingly after a minute, beady eyes darting across the list of purchases. “They’ll be needing you in the kitchen. We’re a little short-handed. I had to let someone go today.”
Calla felt cold fear in her stomach. “Let someone go” was Jenner’s euphemism for selling one of the slaves, all of whom were Calla’s friends. Trying to contain her concern, Calla nodded submissively at Jenner and made her way down the hall to the kitchen. When she opened the door, conversation fell silent and suddenly everyone became busy with their tasks. Everyone except Hari, a young girl who cleaned the cooking implements and dishes.
“Calla, you won’t believe what Mistress Jenner did!” Hari said with wide eyes.
“Shut up, Hari,” said Karin, the cook. She was one of the few slaves who had been at the hostel longer than Calla. Calla’s fear grew stronger. No one but Karin and Hari would look at her, and there was a sadness in Karin’s face that boded ill.
“Mistress Jenner said she got rid of someone,” Calla asked quickly. “Who was it?”
“Calla, I’m so sorry,” Karin said, walking quickly toward her. “Come sit with me at the table.”
Something was very wrong, Calla realized. The only reason that Karin would look at her like that would be if Jenner had sold…
“Jess,” Calla whispered, comprehension dawning. “She sold Jess. He’s gone.”
“Honey, none of us had any idea,” Karin said, pulling Calla to her. The horror of Jenner’s actions was too much. Calla had never been away from Jess, they were born in the same crèche on the imperial slave farm. It was beyond comprehension.
“Where is he?” Calla asked, hoping Jess was still on-station. At least that way she would be able to see him.
“He’s gone,” Karin said. “Jenner sold him to one of her pilgrim friends, a miner. They came to take him just a couple of minutes after you left to shop this morning. I guess the deal’s been done for weeks; they just waited to collect him until it was time to ship back out to the mining fields. He’s already off-station.
She just didn’t bother to tell any of us it was going to happen,” she added with disgust.
It was typical Jenner, Calla thought despairingly. No matter than Jess was her best friend. No matter that they’d been together their entire lives. The most horrifying thing was that it hadn’t been deliberate cruelty on Jenner’s part–Calla was sure it simply hadn’t occurred to her that the slaves would want to know they were going to be separated. To Jenner, Jess and Calla weren’t even real people. It was too much to bear.
“I hate her, Karin,” Calla whispered fiercely, fighting against the tears that threatened to take over her whole body. “I hate that bitch. How could she do this to us? He’s my brother!”
“I’m so sorry, honey,” Karin said.
Calla leaned heavily against her, almost dizzy from shock. Jess was gone, and she might never see him again. She felt like vomiting.
The rest of the day was more horrible than Calla could have imagined. All of them were upset, of course, but none had been as close to Jess as Calla. Each of her fellow slaves did their part to make Calla feel better. Karin saved a small tartlet from Jenner’s own dinner for her, and Hari slipped her a chit worth half a credit the girl had gotten somewhere. It wasn’t much, but even half a credit was a prize to a slave. Jenner herself betrayed no emotions when she swept into the kitchen for her evening inspection.
Then again, why would she? Calla thought bitterly. In Jenner’s mind slaves weren’t fully human, a belief that was validated by her pilgrim religion.
By evening, the first shock of Jess’ fate had worn off, and Calla was grateful for the comforting darkness of lights-out. She had been fighting off tears for the last several hours, and she couldn’t hold them back any longer. Beyond the kitchen were the hostel’s common rooms, mostly unused by their Saurellian guests, who preferred the atmosphere of the station’s drinking and pleasure facilities. Needing some space for herself, Calla crept silently along the hallway and into one of the rooms. She crawled onto a low couch where she curled into a miserable ball.
She lay there, crying, for at least an hour before she came to a realization. She couldn’t stay at the hostel any longer. Life had become too horrible. The only family she had ever known was gone. She and Jess had been born the same day on the slave farm. They had spent their entire lives serving others, trapped by the knowledge that runaway slaves were hunted down and swiftly executed by the imperial troops if caught.
But they weren’t in the Empire any more, the realization came to her suddenly, and their new overlords were busy securing their conquests. This might be the best chance to escape she would ever get. If she could find and free Jess, they could escape into the chaos of the new political system and live out their lives with none the wiser.