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SHE WASN’T SUPPOSED to be tested today. Emily knew that. They’d never tested her on the same day as one of her performances, and she was supposed to be transported to the performance facility in a matter of hours.
But there were wires connected to her head, straps on her wrists and ankles, monitors spitting information she couldn’t decipher, and something that looked suspiciously like a cattle prod.
She hated that thing.
And, weirdly enough, there was another alien in the room, other than the one doing the tests. He was hooked up to machines of his own and was practically bouncing in his seat, excited for whatever was about to happen. This was new. And bad. All new things were bad. That was what she’d come to learn. Every change led to more pain. The only slightly not-terrible thing that had happened were her performances. Her captors had let her design her routine after giving her a few simple commands. She had to include aerial stunts, and she had to make it interesting. But what those stunts were was up to her.
Everything else stunk.
The doctor—or at least Emily thought he was a doctor, he sure did do a lot of medical tests—was speaking to the other alien, both of them talking too low for her to make out over the buzzing and beeping of the machines. She didn’t like the way they kept glancing her way. Whatever was about to happen wouldn’t be pleasant.
And what did the alien have to do with it?
She wanted to ask. She was desperate to know. But they wouldn’t answer. And she’d probably be punished for speaking up.
She hated this.
She wanted to go home.
Her mind flashed back to Oz. It had been two days since she’d last seen him. He hadn’t been back at the club, and when she’d discreetly asked a couple other prisoners about him they hadn’t known who he was. Maybe she’d imagined him. The whole encounter had a dreamlike quality to it. After all, why should she believe there were nice aliens when every other one she met seemed intent on forcing her to perform or causing her pain? Maybe she was close to her breaking point.
The aliens stopped talking and Emily’s heartbeat stuttered. Whatever they had planned, they were starting soon. The non-doctor alien held onto the arms of his chair and grimaced like he was at the dentist, preparing for pain.
Oh, hell.
But Emily tried to stay relaxed. She’d learned that tensing early only made it worse. Not that there was a way to make things better, but she had to try.
The doctor went to his desk and punched in something on his high tech computer/table. Or maybe it wasn’t high tech to him. But they didn’t have anything like that back on Earth outside of movies and TV.
There was another thing Emily missed. She’d been taken right before the final season of her favorite TV show. She had dragon-related questions that needed to be answered. Fictional dragons. Did real ones exist?
She was being experimented on by aliens; anything else seemed possible.
Her wandering thoughts distracted her so the first punch of electricity came as a surprise. It hurt, but Emily wasn’t going to show it. Years and years of performing through the pain, smiling as her body screamed had taught her how to hide it, and she wasn’t going to give these aliens the satisfaction.
But the doctor seemed relatively disinterested in her. The hum of electricity heading her way was steady. Unpleasant but not unbearable, and she was going to be dealing with static shock for days. Instead all his attention was focused on the alien.
His wings.
They didn’t display them often, and at times Emily could forget they had them at all. But now they crackled with electric fire, bigger than she’d ever seen on another alien. Was that because of what they were doing?
There were greens and yellows and blues in the electric strands that made up some sort of feathers. Though they weren’t real feathers, there was no down here. But that was the best word Emily had for it. And they rippled like they were alive, resting over the alien’s skin and wrapping around him like a blanket. Maybe they weren’t even wings. Maybe that was the wrong word.
But god, they were beautiful.
Something was happening to Emily, the crackle of electricity running over her seeming to seep into her skin. It hurt. Tears pricked at her eyes and one escaped, but Emily kept silent. The doctor and his alien patient weren’t looking at her and she didn’t want to draw their attention. She felt a pull deep inside her, like her insides were being yanked out, and it was only grim determination that kept her quiet.
Lightning shot out from the alien.
Emily couldn’t quite pinpoint where it had come from. Just like a lightning strike it happened so fast that she couldn’t fully wrap her mind around it before it was gone. And then it happened again. A yank and a strike. The alien made some kind of noise, half pained, half ecstatic.
She could feel the pull again.
But this time Emily yanked back.
There was no strike, but it set her blood on fire, sizzling until she felt like she was going to pass out. Whatever they were doing to her, it couldn’t be good. It couldn’t last.
They were going to kill her.
She’d feared she would die in space from the moment she woke up, but this was the first time she really believed it.
There was one more yank, and she fought it as best she could. The power didn’t rebound as strongly, and a fizzling pop came from the alien. She could feel something trickling around her lips and when her tongue darted out to lick it away she tasted blood.
Oh yeah, that was really bad.
The alien doctor approached his sciency table and turned something off. The pain and electricity flowing through Emily’s veins subsided. She had no energy and had no idea how she was going to perform. But if she told the doctors that, they’d just keep her at this facility and use her up until there was nothing left. Well, there were some changes she could make to her routine. Some tricks that were easier to perform. Maybe she could make it work.
As long as she didn’t plunge off one of the aerial platforms she’d survive.
A few minutes later two more aliens came to the room. They unstrapped Emily from the chair and stood her up. Her feet were wobbly, but she tried not to show it. She couldn’t be weak.
The aliens dumped her in a holding room. Lena was already there and there was a lump laying on one of the cots, covered in blankets and shivering. As far as prisons went, it wasn’t too bad. The cots were almost comfortable, and there was plenty of water and snacks, and a semi-private bathroom. The door didn’t close, but the toilet was off-set so no one had to watch anyone do their business.
And they weren’t observed.
At first Emily and the others hadn’t been sure, but after a few of the braver prisoners had started talking one day, they’d realized no one was coming to stop them. The door was locked and there was no other way out, so it wasn’t like they needed attendants there to keep them from escaping.
Emily’s shoulders relaxed. This was as close to freedom as things got these days. This and her performances.
“Is she okay?” Emily sank down onto the cot beside Lena and little Luci. She couldn’t stop her body from laying down, and she didn’t try. Whatever they’d done to her had hurt and she wanted to rest.
Luci was the youngest of the prisoners, as far as Emily knew. She was barely eighteen and looked even younger. Lena had become a mother hen from the second they’d met, but everyone did their best to care for Luci.
Lena patted the girl’s shoulder and sat back. The shivering seemed to slow and Luci’s breathing evened out. “It is what it is.”
So she wasn’t doing great.
Before she could start talking the door opened again and Grace was shoved in.
Emily kept her face aggressively neutral as the blonde walked over to one of the cots on the far side of the room and sank down. She was wearing a thick sweater, much nicer than the scratchy, thin material that Emily’s clothes were made of. One of their captors must have given it to her. What had she had to do to earn it?
Lena met Emily’s eyes and shook her head, clicking her mouth shut pointedly. She wanted to talk, but she wasn’t going to do it where the blonde could hear.
“You don’t look well,” Grace said. There was something off about her accent, but Emily couldn’t place it. Not all of the prisoners spoke English, but the translators they’d been given took care of that just like they did with whatever language the aliens were speaking. Emily was pretty sure Grace spoke English, that her words weren’t being translated. She would have thought it would be obvious, lips moving all wrong like watching a dubbed movie. But the translators were so smooth it was almost impossible to tell. “Do you require refreshment?” Grace asked.
That was it. Grace spoke like she was out of some historical novel. Sometimes. She phrased things strangely and pronounced some words like she’d only ever seen them in books. But maybe English wasn’t her first language. Emily didn’t like the woman, but she wasn’t going to hold speaking strangely against her.
“I’m fine,” Emily grumbled. Any words said to Grace might get repeated. There would be no complaining until she was gone.
She and Lena shared glances for a few more minutes, but it didn’t look like Grace was going anywhere. Emily finally gave up and fell into a light doze, trying to push away her discomfort. She must have actually fallen asleep, since it was Lena’s rough hand on her shoulder that woke her up.
“She’s gone,” said Lena.
So was Luci.
“Any trouble?” Most of the prisoners didn’t fight. It hadn’t worked six months ago, it wouldn’t work now.
Lena shrugged. “Luci wasn’t feeling well, but she’s tougher than she looks. Grace certainly looked comfortable.”
The sweater had looked really freaking soft. “But at what cost?”
Her companion just nodded. “Whatever they did to you was bad, wasn’t it?”
Lena’s burnt gold skin had a bit of underlying pallor, but she didn’t look like she’d been through the wringer. She must have just had the normal tests. Or they’d brought her here because they knew she’d keep Luci calm.
“It sucked,” Emily confirmed. “I don’t know how much of it I can take.”
Lena glanced at the door then back at her, her expression serious. “Things are being put into play. It will be soon.”
Escape.
Lena had approached her about the prospect weeks ago. It was all that was keeping Emily going sometimes. She wanted to ask details, but Lena had made it clear she couldn’t share. The less people knew, the less chance of getting caught.
“You’re still in?”
Emily nodded. “I’m ready to go home.”
***
THE CLUB WAS CROWDED again, and Oz recognized a few faces. Did they recognize him? Showing up too often was sure to blow his cover, but he wanted to see the human... Emily. She’d lodged herself deeply in his thoughts, appearing in his dreams and his plans. Obsession had swept through him until she was all he could think about. He didn’t know what kind of madness it was, but it had made him form a plan. Something beyond stupid that would get him fired if he got caught.
But what else could he do?
He couldn’t rescue everyone. And he didn’t think he could convince Cru that the humans deserved to be saved. That wasn’t the mission.
These humans would be stranded, and when war came they’d be caught in the crossfire. But maybe saving just one would do something to assuage his conscience.
Or maybe he was just fooling himself.
It didn’t matter. Oz had a plan.
Unlike Cru and Solan, Oz didn’t come from a noble family. He hadn’t been born to massive wealth, though his family was by no means poor. And he’d amassed a few thousand credits. He’d had plans for them. A small estate. A family of his own. A life outside of war. But that was a long way off, and if he could use them now to save a person he would.
Their intel said the Apsyns had been forced to sell off some of their human stock to continue to fund their project. Now it was time to use that to his advantage. There was nothing in the profile of the person Oz was pretending to be that said he wouldn’t buy a person, so he was using that as permission.
Slavery disgusted him. If he had the ear of the queen, he’d lobby her until she did everything in her power to eradicate the practice from every corner of Zulir territory. It didn’t matter that it was illegal, it still happened.
But today he could use that.
Emily took the stage, flying through the air with a different set of moves than he’d seen the other night. She didn’t flip like she had, instead launching herself straight at the trapeze and swinging, kicking her legs out and posing in contorted positions.
He wanted to watch, wanted to see what new wonders she’d perform. But if he was going to get to work he had to do it quickly.
He made his way backstage, just as he had the other night. This time he wasn’t interested in hiding. He needed to find one of the Apsyns in charge. They could give Emily to him. If he was persuasive enough.
Another man might have sneaked in and stole her away. He’d thought of doing it for half a second, but that was much more likely to get him caught. No, he had to be his brash, country character. Claim an interest and attempt a purchase. Liberating her by any other means would compromise the mission even more than this little stunt, and Oz refused to do that.
The frizzy-haired Apsyn from the first night was nowhere to be seen, but Oz found another woman, this one with short purple hair, expensive jewelry, and a shrewd expression. She looked like someone in charge. And she looked at him like he was a bug that needed to be crushed.
They were close to the stage. He hadn’t realized it, but if he leaned forward he’d catch a glimpse of the tricks his Emily was performing.
But he couldn’t look too eager. He only had so many credits to spend.
“You’re not supposed to be back here,” said the woman. She tapped at something on her handheld holoprojector, but it was set to privacy mode so Oz couldn’t make out the details.
“This is exactly where I’m supposed to be,” Oz shot back, doing his best to sound like an entitled, brash idiot.
It worked. The woman spared him a second look.
“I didn’t catch your name,” he said, grinning at her.
“I didn’t give it.” She looked away again.
Punting hells. She wasn’t going to be interested. He could already feel his plan falling apart at the seams. But he pushed ahead. He had to try. “No matter. I have a proposition for you. Something mutually beneficial.”
“You have nothing I haven’t seen before, boy. And I’m not interested. Especially not for business.” She didn’t look at him when she spoke, and Oz could feel failure clawing at his heels.
But he had to try. He stepped in front of her, his back to the stage, and waved a hand through her hologram. It was the height of rudeness, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. “I only need a few minutes of your time.”
The Apsyn looked up and rolled her eyes at him before shrugging. “You have three minutes.”
“I’d like to buy the flying performer.” There. He’d said it and he hadn’t even vomited. His stomach roiled for other reasons.
The Apsyn glanced over his shoulder. “Why?”
“Is that important?” Oz hadn’t gotten that far in his cover story. Maybe he should have. Punt. This was a bad idea.
“I wouldn’t want my stock mistreated by some overeager boy. Indulge me.” She stared at him in challenge.
“She’s a talented performer and we have no one like her in my village. I think I could really start to revitalize the place if we had a reason for people to visit.” There, that sounded good. The outlying villages were struggling, shrinking year by year as they lost population to the cities. He could imagine one trying to make some sort of draw for tourists.
Oz heard clapping and knew Emily had to almost be done. There wasn’t much time left.
“Hmm,” the woman said. “That’s an interesting prospect. And what would you offer?”
He named his price. It was almost all the credits in his account, and still not quite what a healthy human would go for on the open market. Could charm make up the difference?
“Are you sure about that number?” the woman asked. Then she looked behind him, eyes narrowed. “Aerial-1, come here.”
Oz didn’t need to turn around to know she was speaking to Emily. Who else could be coming directly from the stage? He’d hoped to avoid this. He didn’t want her to judge him as some sort of slaver. She didn’t need to know how he’d gotten her out when he planned to free her immediately.
Emily stood silently beside him and looked at the woman, her expression blank. Her skin wasn’t as bright as it had been the other night; there was a sickly tone there, like she needed rest and meds and a good doctor to take a look at her. Was she sick? What were these monsters doing to her? He wanted to wrap her up in his wings and shield her from harm, to get her away from this place, so she could heal and find a better home.
But he tried to keep his expression as neutral as Emily did. He couldn’t have anyone guessing his true thoughts.
“This man seems to think you’re only worth a few thousand credits. If your performance doesn’t improve, I’ll be forced to sell you. Do better.” She waved and another Apsyn appeared from the shadows to shepherd Emily away.
That answered that.
And Oz felt even sicker. What would Emily think of him?
He couldn’t worry about that.
“So it’s a no?” He grinned, as if his heart wasn’t beating madly and his soul didn’t cry out.
“It’s an insult, is what it is. Get out of my club before I have you thrown out.” She turned and walked away.
This was bad. He’d brought attention to himself, hurt Emily, and compromised his mission all for nothing. He had to make sure no one found out. There was no telling how bad things would get if they did.
Oz made his way back toward the club, but he’d only turned a corner before there was a tight grip on his hand and a flash of blonde hair. He was yanked into a small room, the door closing behind him.
“What in Braznon’s bowels are you doing?” asked the asset.
