The flitters landed at midmorning. The wide gates in the outer wall were pulled open. Two huge cargo haulers crawled into the courtyard, crowding the flitters. I watched from my corner.
People hurried through the mansion, unloading crates and boxes and odd looking equipment. Shomies came down the stairs and presided over the chaos. She sent most of the stuff down a set of stairs hidden behind a wall panel in the main room. I got a glimpse of bare plascrete lit by bare tubes set in the wall.
They brought in a new refrigeration unit for the kitchen, a monstrous thing of polished steel. Rivian frowned at it as four men muscled it into place and attached it into the power system. It looked out of place in the sleek black and chrome kitchen area. I wondered about it. The table set nearby couldn't have held more than twelve people. Were all of the extra people going to stay? I'd seen several dozen tramping through the room.
Rivian looked upset. The beige carpet was tracked with dusty footprints and littered with scraps of packing material.
"Prepare food," Shomies ordered him as she waddled past him towards the stairs.
She didn't see the look of rage on his face. I did. He caught my eye across the room and locked stares with me. He turned away abruptly.
Whatever he did in the kitchen smelled good. Much better than a ration bar. I crumpled a leftover wrapper in one hand. Shomies had paused just long enough to throw one at me that morning. Her people stared curiously at me as they walked past. I sat on my square of flooring and ignored them.
They began to stop in the kitchen to eat, a few at a time. More boxes and packages were carried through the room and down the stairs. The mess around the kitchen grew. Dirty dishes were left wherever they landed. Rivian gathered them up, muttering to himself as he scraped food off them. The three girls who had helped him before never showed themselves.
The flitters lifted and more landed. The cargo haulers ground away, out through the gates. Another entered the courtyard. Whatever Shomies was up to, it involved a lot of equipment and supplies. At least half the people carrying things past me wore blasters. Many of them wore blue outfits with a patch on one shoulder blazoned with a company logo. It was teasingly familiar but I couldn't place it.
The flood of people and equipment finally slowed midafternoon. At least a dozen extra people stayed behind in the mansion when the flitters finally left.
"There are quarters provided in the north wing," Shomies told the extra people. "I will have a list of duties for you in the morning."
They were dismissed. They left, heading down the stairs. The door slid shut behind them.
"Am I required to cook for them?" Rivian asked in the sudden silence.
"If they ask," Shomies answered without looking at him. "Clean this mess." She waddled away, up the creaking staircase to the upper floors.
Rivian waited until she was out of hearing range before he cut loose with a very scathing description of her. He stood with his hands on his hips, glaring at the filthy carpet and piles of dishes.
"Let me out and I'll help you," I offered.
"Now you think I'm stupid?" He turned his glare on me.
I shrugged. He shook his head.
I sat in my corner and watched while he cleaned the room. He grumbled and muttered the whole time. He slammed dishes into the cleaner, but only those that wouldn't break. The sky outside slowly darkened.
The stairs over my head creaked. Rivian's mutterings stopped abruptly. He was on his knees, scrubbing a stain in the carpet. Shomies walked right past him.
"Dinner will be prepared within the hour," she said. "There will be eleven."
She maneuvered her bulk through the hidden door and down the stairs. The door shut behind her.
Rivian threw his scrubbing pad at the door. The look he shot me was defiant, on the surface. I saw the pain under it. He got off his knees and retrieved his pad. His shoulders sagged in defeat.
A cleaner bot scuttled out of the corner and began sucking up dirt from the carpet. Rivian banged pots in the kitchen. Within an hour, he had the table laid for eleven. The air smelled of spices. My stomach grumbled.
He poured himself a drink. He sat on the counter and stared at me, sipping his drink, while time crawled past.
The door to the stairs slid open. He jumped off the counter, his drink disappearing as if it had never existed. His whole manner changed as Shomies came through the door. She was talking with a woman as hard-faced as anyone I'd ever met. The woman flicked a glance over me and dismissed me. I sat quietly in my corner and studied her and the others.
The woman was obviously the one in charge of the motley crew behind her. She had a scar that twisted up one side of her neck. Her black hair was cropped short. She was lean and hard with no hint of softness to her anywhere. She wore a blaster openly on one hip, a knife on the other. The only ornamentation on her plain blue clothing was a pair of chains wrapped around one boot. She sat next to Shomies at the table, talking too quietly for me to hear more than an occasional word.
The others were a strange mix. Three of them, two men and a woman, looked more like scientists than thugs. They sat near Shomies and the hard woman. Their conversation, what I could hear, was about chemicals and mixtures and equipment I'd never heard of before. The rest of the group were hired thugs, six armed and dangerous looking men and women. They sat at the other end of the table. Their jokes were crude. Shomies' glare kept them somewhat subdued.
Rivian served them. Shomies ignored him. She ate and talked and smiled. But not at him. I watched him and saw the pain in his face and the anger he tried to hide.
After dinner, the six thugs went back down the stairs. The scientists, Shomies, and the scarred woman moved to the far end of the room. They sat around the table there, deep in discussion.
Rivian was left to clean up. I was left to listen to my stomach complain about not being fed.
The scientists left after a while, walking down the stairs with their heads still together while they talked shop.
Shomies levered her bulk out of her chair. The scarred woman waited impatiently for her, her face impassive but her eyes restlessly scanning the room.
"You can keep them in line, Nione?" Shomies asked.
"You need to ask? Why is she here?" She flipped her hand towards me.
"My personal staff is not your concern," Shomies said coldly.
"Your private pet? She's dangerous."
Shomies merely smiled. "I didn't hire you to tell me how to live my life."
"Your pardon, Hom Pardui, I did not mean to offend." Nione bowed her head submissively.
Shomies snorted. "You may fool the others, but not me. The first shipment is scheduled for three days."
"It will be ready." Nione gave me a measuring look as she crossed to the hidden staircase. The door slid shut behind her. I shivered.
Shomies watched me, her head cocked to one side. "Did you miss your supper?"
I looked down at the floor. The stairs creaked over my head. I sighed. I could deal with being hungry.
"Here," Rivian said quietly.
I looked up. He was holding out a plate to me. The food was cold, congealing on the plate, but it was a lot more appetizing than a ration bar.
"Won't you get in trouble?"
"As if you care. Just eat it." He slammed the plate down in front of me. He turned away, headed back for the mess in the kitchen.
"Rivian," I called after him, but quietly.
He stopped, his back still towards me.
"Thank you."
"For nothing." He poured himself a drink. He turned back to me, leaning on the counter while he drained the glass.
I ate the food. It was good, even if it was cold.
Rivian polished off another glass of golden liquid. He was more than halfway drunk when he came to collect my plate. He didn't say a word. I watched him clear away the meal and clean up the kitchen. When he finished, he pulled the bottle of golden liquid out of a cabinet. He held it up. It was almost empty. He frowned and put it back. He sighed, leaning on the counter. He caught me watching him. His stare was challenging. I kept my face neutral.
He muttered something too slurred for me to understand. He shoved himself away from the counter and stumbled towards me. He climbed the stairs that rose over my head.
The lights in the room slowly dimmed and went out.
The only one of the new people to make an appearance the next day was Nione, the hard-faced woman with the scarred neck. She talked to Shomies over breakfast. Whatever they discussed was intense. They kept their voices low, their heads close. Rivian stayed in the kitchen, his eyes bloodshot and red. Shomies and Nione went down the stairs when they finished.
Rivian cleared away the dishes. He deliberately didn't look at me. I eased into my exercises, wondering if I was going to get any food that day.
A while later, feet pattered down the stairs. The three girls joined Rivian in the kitchen, their clothes whispering around them. They wore gauzy dresses that emphasized their curves. They twittered at each other, meaningless comments about dances and dresses. They fluttered around Rivian, patting him and teasing him. He smiled for them, but there was a bitter twist to it that they didn't see.
The four of them went upstairs, leaving me alone for another long day. I did my exercises and paced my tiny space. I stared out the window, at the promise of freedom. It was an illusion. The bloody light was too dim. There were no birds here, no stars. Only the slender hope that Lowell would find me.
Dinner that night was Shomies by herself. Rivian cooked. The girls danced. Shomies watched me, though. She clapped her hands. The music stopped. The girls fluttered in confusion.
"Dace," Shomies drawled. "Are you hungry?" She snapped her fingers at Rivian.
He carried a plate to her. She took it and stood ponderously. She studied me for a long moment. She crossed the room and held the plate just out of my reach.
"What are you planning?" she asked me. "You've been much too quiet."
I didn't answer. I watched her, feeling like a rodent being stalked by a cat. She chuckled to herself.
"You don't fool me," she said as she put the plate on the floor in front of me. "You haven't changed that much."
I ignored the food. She was planning something. I had to figure out what.
"Eat or go hungry, Dace," she said. "Would you prefer a ration bar?"
"Thank you," I said, smiling at her. It was false, just like her smile. I picked up the plate. She hadn't included any utensils. I used my fingers to pick up a bite.
I saw Rivian shake his head, his eyes warning me of something. Shomies licked her lips. I pushed the bite into my mouth, expecting her to take the plate away from me. She smiled.
I ate another bite, wondering what I was missing. Maybe the food was poisoned. I lowered the plate.
"Eat it, Dace," Shomies whispered. "Are you afraid of me?"
I didn't dare answer. Anything I said would either be a lie or give her more power over me.
"Answer me!" she shouted. She slapped the plate of food out of my hand. It landed upside down on the carpet not far away.
"Go to hell, Shomies," I said very slowly and deliberately.
She slapped me. I tasted blood. She stepped away, turning her back.
"You will not feed her again," she said to Rivian. She moved up the stairs, each step producing a chorus of squeaks.
The three girls followed her, whispering to each other as they fluttered away.
I wiped blood from my lip. Rivian picked up the plate and the spilled food. I didn't try to talk to him. He ignored me as he cleaned up the mess.