Spaceways - King Of The Slavers Part 4

"Firm, Mate." It watched her secure the cabin door and test the new lock on its outside.

"Firm," she echoed. "Will I need to come with you to keep you from-"

"Neg, Mate. We Jarps are not as rapacious as Galac-tics say. I'll bet you don't, though. I like you, Mate Najendra. You're a nice Galactic. You a Sunflower?"

Her little chuckle and nod admitted that Najendra did indeed fit that bigots' term for Jarp-lover-usually meaning merely Jarp-tolerator. They headed along the tunnel to the con-cabin, the Galactic in her blousy baggies and the Jarp two dozen centimeters taller, in cerise halter and trunks.

Once again Captain Lortice sat asprawl in his own cabin. He felt better about the captive. A Most n.o.ble Lady should be treated as such, even when she was kidnapped, and never mind her s.e.xually predatory predilections. She'd had no business being locked up in that hole with her witling guardian. Him I'd be happy to keep sedated, as insurance . . . or kill, Lortice thought, sipping an (undoctored) a.s.sinibasca and carbonated water.

He knew about Intaglio, and the girls on Man- 57.janungo's yacht. He also knew that on Ghanj, Manjanungo had been taken by a TGO agent. A woman. One of Manjanungo's people had been killed in breaking that up-another woman-but now the agent of The Gray Organization was Manjanungo's captive.

Unless he's deep-s.p.a.ced her by now, Lortice thought. Who'd want to keep one of their agents around, female or not? What the vug sort of fun could a man have with one of them? And why in the name of anything at all would he want to keep a TGO agent on his s.h.i.+p, anyhow?

The dinnng sound was not loud, but in the silence of his cabin and his thoughts, Lortice jerked. He pounced to the commbox and swiftly set it to the special frequency. Out went his coded signal, automatically tracking back on the incoming one that had tripped the alarm.

Very soon Lortice was smiling. He felt like cheering. The two-only modulations that had come in meant: "Manjanungo here. Not in position but coming. Towing new s.h.i.+p. All's well. Proceed without haste."

Reason enough to have another drink, a celebratory one! He'd tell the others later.

By now a clean Juggernaut/Boroboodhi was again locked alone in the small hold, and Najendra was oncon with the Jarp she had chosen for the duty. Another would be awaiting Seerava's awakening and would . . . console her.

And Manjanungo was coming, towing a s.h.i.+p, a new acquisition. Onboard News Service had already carried the word that the "legendary" Captain Manjanungo had accomplished the impossible: he had attacked, taken, and sacked the liner Starqueenl He'll be all full of himself, Lortice thought, worrying his lip with his teeth. She is his cousin . . . I hope he 58.doesn 't decide to be angry about my locking her in the hold-hole that way. I should have left her alone, d.a.m.n it.

He hadn't been thinking clearly when he sent Karmal Pak to tap on her cabin door and invite her down the cargo tunnel, to a surprise.

That was a mistake. I fouled it. Should have left her in her own cabin, with the lock s.h.i.+fted outside the way it is now. Who'd have guessed that drudge Najendra would be so resourceful? d.a.m.n. I've got to fight this- got to improve. Manjanungo's competent and he's harsh. I've got to do better! You can do it, Lortice! You can be valuable to him. Do! Just work on the old thinking, Lortice. Decisions aren't that hard, and Man-janungo isn 't known for patience with foul-its!

5.

Vampy, Vermillion, and Serendip made no complaint about the extending of their s.h.i.+pboard duties to include serving Lady Seerava. As a matter of fact none of the three tall and very lean hermaphrodites considered it duty. Nor did the Most n.o.ble Lady complain. Neither did Karmal Pak-but after eight s.h.i.+p-days-eleven since Seera had been made prisoner-Pak realized that Najendra was starting to look appealing, which was appalling. He realized that he had been celibate long enough, and he was not about to wait until the mate looked even better.

After grooming himself and struggling into his tightest s.h.i.+mmer-pants, he went to visit the prisoner. He was sure that she would be happy to have human company after a steady diet of those orange leano-weirdos.

She did not stop screaming and throwing things until he had vacated the cabin and Captain Lortice put it off-limits to the steward. Since the cabin contained little that could be thrown save the lady's clothing, she must have occupied herself for the next half-hour just picking up hurled garments.

Pak did his best to maintain a low image after that, knowing that the captain was not happy with him and worse, that the mate and all three Jarps must be snickering at him behind his back.

59.60.A day later, while Najendra had the con duty, he expressed interest in the console. Soon he was behind her chair, leaning over her with an arm on either side. She spoke so quietly that for a moment he froze, unable to believe he'd really heard what she said: "Listen, you wh.o.r.e with your glued-on pants, touch me and I'll dismember you."

After a moment he registered all that, and straightened. He stood Behind her, blinking, staring down at the top of her head.

"Now what?" she said, still quietly and without turning. "Shall I take the words out of your mouth? 'Na-jen-drahh ... I merely thought that anyone so frumpy as you would welcome the attentions of an ex-con smuggler and wh.o.r.e with glued-on pants.' "

Again he was silent, staring, while once more he a.s.similated words that shocked and astounded him. From herl At last he got himself together enough to try the rather obvious expostulatory explanation: "I a.s.sure you, s.h.i.+p's Mate, I was merely interested in-"

"Ri-i-ight," she said, dragging it out. Still quietly, and as if addressing the console. It occurred to him that she might well be seeing his reflection on the blank simulation screen.

He stepped back a pace. "You rotten cold frumpy b.i.t.c.h! I ought to knock your a.s.s off-if you have one, in those baggy do-"

He broke off because she came out of the mate's chair faster than he'd have thought anyone could, and furthermore turned as she did. Her eyes fixed their pale stare on him and she stood ready, not quite in a combative crouch. It was all Pak could do not to back another pace or two.

"I suppose that since I called you a nasty name, I 61.shouldn't object to your calling me one," she said, even more quietly now that she faced him. "But what an unimaginative one! b.i.t.c.h, b.i.t.c.h, b.i.t.c.h," she said, p.r.o.nouncing the word dully. "Just about any woman has heard that at one time or another, especially from a man whose sense of manhood she has put in jeopardy. Why not call me 'baggy-pantsed grat's a.s.s,' Pak? Or 'mop-topped Sister Shapeless,' maybe. That's what you see, and you know as well as I do that you wouldn't have developed an interest in the console if you weren't feeling h.o.r.n.y and Lady Seerava weren't justifiably . . . perturbed at you."

They stared at each other long enough to hear the tiny snik of the console chron as it flipped up a new number. Then she astounded him still again: the corners of her mouth edged up a little in an unmistakable, however restrained, smile.

"I apologize for calling you that name, s.h.i.+p's Steward."

Another one! The succession of surprises was very nearly too much for Karmal Pak (smuggler, ex-con, and spray-pantsed wh.o.r.e). He wrestled with the newest shock. He considered her words, their situation on Lewuvul and the length of time they might have to remain together-waiting, waiting-and the tiny seedling of a smile she showed him.

Abruptly he let himself chuckle.

" 'Baggy-pantsed grat's a.s.s,' isn't bad," he said, and abruptly his chuckle was as real as hers. He even saw sparkle in those eyes she had dyed too pale. Eyes about the color of the chlorinated water in a planetside swimming pool.

" 'Mop-top,' maybe," he went on. "But 'Sister Shapeless'-hahaha, I'd never have thought of that one! Besides-it may not be true. Who knows, with you 62.in those baggy-a.s.s pants and tunics with clas.h.i.+ng colors that hurt the eyes! No one can be sure whether you're shapeless or not."

She was smiling openly now, and it looked good on her. "Makes you wonder, doesn't it?" she said, and he said "Not really," and she broke up. Then she looked down at herself-opnge tunic, medium blue baggy-pants; not too ghastly, this time.

"What colors am I wearing?" she asked. "Ever hear of the chromatically disadvantaged?"

And it was his turn to break up.

At last he was able to settle himself down enough to say, "But you're just joccin' me about that-color blindness is just something in books about ancient people. It was genengineered out of all of us longer ago than the tendency to baldness or hair on women's faces."

No longer in her pre-crouch, she sighed and made a small gesture of helpless resignation. "Genetic engineering or not, I have a problem. Never felt I had enough cred to have it fixed. Maybe it's the eyes-almost colorless eyes maybe can't see colors?"

Now he was sure she was putting him on, because he was sure that she had had her eyes cosmetically chro-madyed; no one had eyes like those. Well-Glyans did, but any experienced s.p.a.cefarer or planetbound slaveholder knew that Glyans were pale all over, with hair almost-white, too. "Blond," it was called.

"I saw a Glyan with eyes like yours once. A slave," he told her, not even noticing that he was leaning comfortable against the third chair, having his first real conversation with Najendra and not at all unhappy about it. "I don't think he was color-blind, though."

"Maybe not blind but just disadvantaged, color-disrupted?" she suggested, smiling, her head a little on 63.one side to make it obvious that she was teasing. "A Glyan-oh! You mean Aglayan, from that Protected world?-Aglaya?"

"Right. Aglayan. Anyhow, uh . . . "

She lifted her right hand in a swearing gesture. He noticed that she merely bent it up at the elbow, without stretching either her arm or the cloth of her tunic. He was never going to know, he decided, whether she had anything womanly in there or not. Why would a woman remain so, he wondered, a man to whom appearances were so important. She could so easily have herself reshaped, implanted, even genengineered. He had often thought that if he were a woman he'd make sure he had the trimmest little waist and the most outthrustingly firm, stiff cones of b.r.e.a.s.t.s any cover artist had ever dreamed of.

She was saying, "I do solemnly swear, Steward Pak, to cease wearing mismatched clothing. If not forever, then for the duration of this voyage at least." Then she looked down at herself again. "Would a green tunic be better with these pants?"

Again he laughed aloud. "Eminently!"

"Nice word. And green and orange, you think, shouldn't be worn together?"

"Never. Emphatically never."

"Hmmm." She met his black-eyed gaze again. "I sure wish you'd make a vow in return. That you'll quit wearing those skintight-b.u.t.ted pants, Pak. Makes a poor girl have h.o.r.n.y thoughts, you know."

Then, as if suffering an attack of shyness, she swung back into her chair before the console. A few taps at the keys and she brought up onscreen the nearest spatial phenomenon: a glaring binary star.

"Look at that! Beautiful! A green star and an orange!"

64.Karmal Pak looked at the flaming yellow-white and its runty, ruddy companion sun, and broke up all over again.

Now that he knew her better she seemed more attractive and he was considering putting the moves on her -when the commbox winked and said ping.

The captain advised from his cabin that he had just taken a communication from their employer, "the Admiral." At last! Rendezvous in just under five hours! All crew were directed to clean up and dress up. He also asked Pak to come to his cabin.

Karmal left Najendra, thinking d.a.m.n, with a little sense of loss.

That feeling was not shared by s.p.a.ces.h.i.+p Lewuvul's mate. Her feelings were excitement and antic.i.p.ation only-and that had nothing to do with the steward.

Four hours later, her baggy pants were topped by a blousy-as-usual tunic, except that this one matched the pants: manganese blue. And she was wearing a belt, as if to prove that she had a waist. Clipped to it was a neat little black rectangular pouch.

"Very nice, Mate," Captain Lortice said, rather striking himself in crisp and spotless whites. "What's in the pouch?"

"A comb and a lip-glosser, Captain."

"My G.o.d."

Val.u.s.triana See was absolutely miserable and still on her knees. Once she had mouthed Manjanungo to o.r.g.a.s.m and swallowed the results in sobbing gulps, she expected that the awful cutting wires would be removed from her calves and swollen stomach. Far more importantly despite the pain of the constricting little bands, she expected that the plug would be removed from her a.n.u.s. The copious enema of too-warm soapy water had 65.been churning in her guts for forty-seven minutes and every one of the two thousand, eight hundred and twenty seconds had been an hour-long h.e.l.l.

She was wrong in her hopes and expectations. She was not yet to be granted relief, but must suffer more while demeaning herself still further.

In a cold voice, Manjanungo ordered her to crawl over and perform a similar service on the overly voluptuous Althis, one of the three persons he had taken off the crippled s.p.a.cer he had claimed as salvage. (Its captain, a pirate of small renown, had not agreed. Accordingly he was now locked in a dark small-hold, alone. He'd doubtless welcome the solitude, Manjanungo told him, after several months with two women in an uncontrollably drifting s.p.a.cer. Captain Vettering had not agreed with that, either.) Writhing as her insides grumbled and bubbled, seeming to send hot needles through her belly and all along her intestinal tract, Val.u.s.triana began carrying out Manjanungo's latest command. He watched, amused. After a while he signed to the stiffly waiting Intaglio, who nodded. He left the cabin. Just in case, he saw to it that the door was locked after him, on this latest of torments, inflicted on the TGO agent who had dared capture him. He paced smiling along the s.h.i.+p's tunnel to another cabin.

There, two of his girls had been long enough at the business of obeying him: they were wallowing in lesbian embrace with the third of the trio he had taken off with Vettering and Althis. Vettering had bragged of how she had been a TGW officer who had become positively insatiable during their months of helpless plowing through s.p.a.ce. He had kept her in skimpy briefs only. That became her, Manjanungo thought, but had ordered Lhari bathed and corseted at once. Now she 66.would service him as she had so often served Vettering; as Val.u.s.triana had just served Manjanungo. If she disagreed, she would be bent double, bound, and whipped. If she agreed, she would learn that she could not be successful with a man who had just climaxed. In that case of course she would have to be punished. .. .

6.

The two s.p.a.cecraft approached, communicated, adjusted thrust and aim, linked puters, matched velocity, communicated some more and approached still closer, and linked physically. Each fired a magnetized line to the other. They hung in s.p.a.ce, millions of stells' worth of handsome, ornate, and superbly equipped yachts. Captain and crew of Lewuvul would meet their employer on his boarding; s.h.i.+p's mate naturally had the con.

The pirate s.h.i.+eda styled himself "admiral," sometimes, though he hardly commanded a fleet. Najendra had heard Captain Lortice address Manjanungo as "Admiral," oncomm, and had heard no objection from the pirate who had indeed swiftly patched together a small fleet.

As "the Admiral" prepared to come onboard Lewuvul, Najendra sat in the mate's chair at the con, watching SIPAc.u.m mind the s.h.i.+p. She wore a little smile, picturing them: Captain Lortiee, just inside the airlock, all scrubbed and groomed and handsomely attired in those snug whites; Serendip, Vermillion, and Vampy of Jarpi lined up in matched poses along with matching white blouses and burgundy tights; and Karmal Pak, in a satins.h.i.+ne white tunic and jet pants not quite so tight.

67.68.From the con-cabin she heard the excitement, and learned only later that it was a disappointment: everyone got ready only to have the Admiral first send over his man Javad. After him came one of the girls, and more excited sounds and tootle-wheets greeted the removal of her s.p.a.cesuit. And then the third s.p.a.cesuited figure was cycled through the airlock, and she heard less clamor.

A duly respectful silence, she thought, and soon heard his commanding voice with its Joser accent.

"A very good job indeed, Lortice! A beautiful craft, and I do know and appreciate how long yer've all waited. Well, you've doubtless heard from ONS about Starqueen. What you did not I am sure hear is that it was a joint Manjanungo/Ramesh Jageshwar venture! And now I have another s.h.i.+p, partially in tow. This one we just . . . found. Contained a bedraggled and beaten outlaw named Vettering and his woman, Althis, and their . . . pet. Even more bedraggled, and not a st.i.tch on her. Former TGW officer, can yer imagine? Now devoted to Captain Vettering, poor stupid thing. Name's Lhari . . . something.* The s.h.i.+p is ours, taken as salvage. Wants a bit of working and refitting, is all. As to the others . . . we'll see, won't we! This bit of fluff, Lortice, it pleases me to call Amethyst. Named for the color I chose for her hair, yes. A well-trained girl. Very nearly eighteen, aren't you Amethyst, hmmm? You will please this man Captain Lortice, Amethyst! It occurred to me that yer've waited long and doubtless celibately, Gap-tain Lortice, and so Amethyst is for your cabin. She will do precisely what she is told, and do it well. If she does more or less, she expects to be punished just as she ex- * Suffragan Captain Lhari Haddad's fate was decided in s.p.a.cEWAYS #12, Star Slaver, the story of Vettering and Althis.

69.pects to remain in the snug embrace of that lovely satin corset. Do not disappoint her, Lortice. Beautiful s.h.i.+p, beautiful! Well then, who's oncon?"

"First Mate Najendra 7240ltRE, Admiral."

"Ah, a Res.h.i.+, hmm? Well, well, let's see this lovely craft's con then, and then I shall want to ... interview your most n.o.ble guest. She is in good health?"

His voice was moving toward the con; so was Lor-tice's: "Better than good health, Admiral."

"Ah-huh. Goodi And keeping all crew save Mate Najendra lean and a bit tired, hmmm?" Manjanungo laughed, and Najendra heard the falseness of it. Playing the admiral, this ruthless and born-wealthy man of 28.

She sat on a con until she heard them entering behind her, and looked around and nodded, then turned back to make an obvious check of her console. Only then did she rise and turn to face them. Her face was open, showing none of the excitement she felt; only the friendliness of a competent s.h.i.+p's officer. She saw the flicker of the self-consciously weirdly clad young man's eyes when he caught sight of her attractiveness.

The captain said, "Admiral Manjanungo: s.h.i.+p's mate Najendra."

She met Manjanungo's eyes briefly before lowering her head in an obvious above-the-shoulders bow. "Admiral."

"Mate, I am impressed. A handsome con, sparkling and first-rate in every regard," the black-taffeta'd man said, as if he really were a reviewing admiral. "I am impressed, too, with the fact that even my entry did not prevent your making a double-checking final scan of the console before turning from it. I am most pleased. You could do well with me, Najendra."

She didn't bother to correct him. "Thank you, Admiral."

70.He glanced about with proprietary pleasure. "Ah, beautiful, beautiful." He did not quite rub his hands together. "A good s.h.i.+p, Mate?"

"An absolutely superb s.h.i.+p, Admiral."

"Excellent, excellent. Ah-do call up a picture of Starwolf.

She nodded, turned to give that order to SIPAc.u.m, without mentioning the obvious: the picture would not be much, with the other s.h.i.+p so close. The . . . flags.h.i.+p of the admiral.

It wasn't. The blue-and-white yacht beside Lewuvul was of a different make, obviously a bit larger and a sort of rounded rectangular shape. Manjanungo beamed at what he saw of it anyhow.

"Well!" he said, obviously much enjoying himself and quite full of himself. "We shall celebrate our mutual successes. First, however, I would interview the Most n.o.ble Lady Seerava. Is she in your cabin, Lor-tice?"

Seemingly proud rather than at all affronted at being addressed by name instead of t.i.tle before his crew, Lor-tice said, "In her own cabin, Admiral. I fear that we have . . . discommoded the Most n.o.ble Lady to the extent of removing those objects she might rashly have tried to employ as weapons-and we reversed the lock."

Manjanungo smiled, nodded, and Najendra watched the bob of his bow-tied pigtail. Queue, rather.

"Good! I am glad you have not had to discommode her to any greater extent. She is, after all, my kin by marriage. Hers. Hmmm. Captain, why do we not ask you to take the con while I go to interview the Most n.o.ble Lady? The presence of another woman might make her feel less uncomfortable. Less . . . distracted," he said, letting them see that he wanted to smile 71.satirically but was resisting the impulse. "Mate Najen-dra, I am also impressed that I miscalled your name and you did not correct me. The complete professional, I should say, hmmm? Would you accompany me to interview the lady, please?"

She glanced at her captain before saying "Of course, Admiral," to let him know how professional and what a superb subordinate she was. "Oh, Admiral, Captain ... we did not apprise the Lady Seerava of the Admiral's arrival. She may be in ... deshabille. Should I go first, sirs?"

"Well, well," Manjanungo said with a wave of a gleaming blue-black arm-a gesture that made the odd fabric rustle susurrantly-"I am after all her cousin, and she is after all much older. Let us a.s.sume that there can be no impropriety, and should be no embarra.s.sment. Will you lead the way, please. Oh, Captain; the lock.. .?"

Lortice looked pleased. "It now responds to the spoken word 'Starqueen,' Admiral, in any voice."

This time Manjanungo's laughter was genuine. He swung to the door and gestured in manner lordly.

"s.h.i.+p's Mate?"