“There’s no need for that.” Renall’s amused voice cut into their conversation. Clara jumped. She hadn’t heard the door open, or him step inside. Her eyes went to him. He added, “They will be fed. It’s just that they are emotional just now and we are waiting for them to calm down.”
Ire swept up again. Clara said, “Maybe they would calm down faster if they weren’t locked up in a room and hungry.”
His eyes studied her. He said, “I will admit my human level is low. Maybe I should try that.”
He turned and walked out. The door whisked closed. Margie tucked another cake into a pocket saying, “Just in case,” as she did.
Jessica said, “It seems to me we were talking about escape earlier and they have neatly given us all a reason not to. Not that we could aboard the ship; none of us are flight able.”
Clara said, “Anyone?’
Margie and Ariel shook their heads. The door opened again. Three women came in. Renall didn’t. He hit a button, and the door whirred shut again. Clara smiled at the three. “You hungry?”
They came forward slowly. One of them was older, at least forty. She shook like she had fever. Her face was soaked, and white rings of shock stood up all around her eyes. The other two were near Clara’s age, mid-twenties. They looked enough alike to be related, and after a few minutes, the four women discovered that the older woman was Dana and the two younger women were her daughters, Sanar and Lois. They’d all been sold, and by Dana’s husband to satisfy a hunger debt.
Dana was angry. She said, “It’s not fair. I was a good wife. They were good daughters. They had their work and did it well. They brought home credits. We just had a bad year. And we have four sons too. One of them would have satisfied the debt.”
Sanar said, “But they wouldn’t. Besides, only men can pawn, and they never pawn themselves or their sons, just their women.”
The bitterness was real, and Clara understood it. Back on their home planet, men were always in charge. Some women like Jessica held higher positions in the Capo and other agencies, but a male family member too could pawn them, even if they were valuable government workers. Had Jessica been pawned or outright sold? Was she just too ashamed to admit it and saying she had been sent away by the Capo to cover that? It was possible. A woman who had been pawned or sold bore the family’s shame. They bore the stigma of hunger and debt, and their sale or pawn negated the debt from the men in the family but left the shame on the women.
It was a pretty vile system, especially now that Clara knew the government was sending women to Narnlia, and likely other pleasure planets too as slaves.
But why Dana? She was old and tired. Her hair was lank and her back a little stopped. Dana answered that by adding, “And I was not even to be a wife, but a servant. That was so hurtful to me.”
Lucky her. Now she wouldn’t have to be the cleanup crew at a brothel her daughters were held prisoner in. Dana surged onward. “Lois, eat.” To Margie, she added, “You’re hiding food? That’s smart. But it shows. You need to…” Her forehead puckered. “Well, the suits are so poorly designed, how could you help but be noticeable with the food?”
Lois said, “Mom sews. She’s a seamstress.”
It was the first Lois had spoken, and Clara realized, with a sinking heart, that the girl was simple brained. Jessica looked away, pity on her face as Dana smoothed Lois’ hair away from her forehead with a tender hand. “It’s all right. We’re safe anyway.”
Yes. But for how long?Clara had to wonder, and when she asked, “Have they spoken to you?” her fears grew deeper as Dana said, “No. Why?”
Jessica said, “Just wondering.” She shot Clara a long look that held both empathy and resignation. Clara sighed inwardly. She asked, “What jobs did you have?”
Lois piped in, her childish voice trembling. “I make buttons and sew them. Saran works textile. Factory work.”
Clara’s heart sank even further as she realized that those three’s fate hung in the balance.
After they’d eaten and Renall took them back to their chambers, she said, quietly, “I need to speak with you.”
He entered her chamber, and the door whirred shut. She watched it close, wondering how he would get back out. Her heart pounded. Her every instinct told her to say never mind, that she had forgotten what she had to say. Instead, she drew a deep breath and said, “The mother and daughters, what will happen to them?’
Renall’s handsome face was so close to hers, and a strange and wild longing overtook her. That feeling was so strong, Clara had to look away as he said, “I have not decided yet. They are not valuable.”
“I…” Don’t do it, she warned herself. Don’t make yourself responsible for them. “The mother is a seamstress. You have halls, and maybe…” Inspiration struck. “Maybe she could make costumes for the girls. The one, Lois, she’s too simple. You can’t sell her off and send her away from her mother. She won’t survive.”
He came closer. Her heartbeat ticked up yet again. Her pulse pounded against the skin of her throat. She stared down at her shoes, but his finger lifted her head, forced her to look at him. His odd eyes stared into hers, and Clara had the uneasy feeling he was seeing far more than she wanted him to see. She closed her eyes, deliberately walling off all thought.
Renall spoke. “You’d take charge of them?’
No. Say no.Her eyes stayed tightly shut. Every lesson she had ever learned swam up and warned against her agreeing to that bargain. She had enough on her shoulders. She was trying to build alliances with the others, in case escape presented itself in a way she could not say no to—and in case he decided to break his word about the rewards of working his tables. “I didn’t say that.”
He chuckled. Her eyes popped open. His face came even closer. The lush curves of his mouth drew her attention, and she found herself wondering what those lips felt like, would feel like, pressed onto hers. Heat hit her cheeks, and she swallowed hard then stepped back, putting distance between them.
He said, “You choose your words wisely, but not your alliances.’
“It’s not an alliance.” Her arms crossed over her chest, but the vulnerability stayed. Her breath came too fast, giving her away, so she slowed it. “I just don’t want to see them injured.”
