J McKenna - Slave Planet

Within minutes, she felt the craft being buffeted. Red streaks and sparks flew past the two oval windows. Her heart pounded and she wasn’t sure if the bumpy ride was responsible, or her overwhelming knowledge that she was the crew’s last hope.

Kate read the instruments, using her training to calm her down. When she hit ninety thousand feet, the heat began to dissipate. At eighty thousand, blue skies returned to the two portholes. She waited several long seconds, then saw the panel flash green. She held on until her position matched the best guess of the computer. She pulled a lever. A moment later, she felt the reassuring lift from the parachute. Leaning down, she could look up through one of the portholes to see it open above the pod.

Thank god! That’s one worry gone. Now if I can just land close!

The winds were strong. Kate watched the screen that showed the blips from where the second pod had landed and where the crew was being held. They were still in the village, grouped together near the center. Kate watched, dismayed, as the winds carried her rapidly toward the second pod. She glanced at the altimeter: forty thousand feet. Dammit! She was going to overshoot it by several kilometers. She began firing the forward thrusters to slow down her rate of drift.

The second pod slipped by underneath as she passed eighteen thousand feet. A mountain ridge appeared in her windows. She calculated her rate of descent and the approaching mountain and thought she just might get down before she was dashed to death on its cliff face. “Come on! Come on!” Kate fired the thrusters again. The pod rocked, then leaped forward again. She couldn’t fight the wind for long.

The ridge filled the windows as she came down the last five thousand feet. She had saved a little fuel and used it just before landing, cutting the chute loose at the same time to avoid being dragged. The pod bumped down underneath the brow of the angry butte.

Kate popped the hatch and crawled out. She checked her portable scanner and found she was thirty-six kilometers from the pod, and thirty-eight klicks from the village. Actually not too bad, considering. She took her supplies, including her phaser and a Ute. If talking didn’t work, she carried a few cubes of explosives and blasting caps. Bet they haven’t invented C4, she thought.

She wrapped the remaining explosives around a detonator and set the timer for thirty minutes. That should give her plenty of time to get away. She dropped the bundle into the pod and shut the hatch. “Sorry to do this to you, old friend, but I can’t leave you here for the natives to discover,” she said.

Then, without a backward glance, she turned and headed for the village.

Jorja stood before the crowd, trying to ignore the leering and shouts. She had been dragged to the front and displayed like so much horseflesh, made to walk back and forth while one of the men held her firmly by her upper arm. Jorja was a big woman, but she was petite compared to these men.

Lumpy touched Jorja’s breasts and cunt, displaying their uniqueness to the crowd. Like a used car salesmen, she imagined him saying, “Low mileage! Smooth styling! Still under warranty!”

Beth watched from her post, fascinated, despite her fear. The anthropologist in her found the actions displayed by these humanoids paralleled Earth’s own history. Throughout time, the selling of slaves was commonplace. It was inconceivable now to imagine, but back then, humans of one ethnicity often felt morally superior to those of a different ethnic background. The Pharaohs enslaved the Jews, the Spaniards overwhelmed the Incas, heck, even the Americans brought Africans over to work their cotton plantations. What made this culture different is that they apparently enslaved an entire gender.

She had seen the way women behaved here, just in the few minutes they had been in town. While it was difficult to tell from the ship, at ground level it was obvious women were docile and obedient. They followed behind their men, awaiting directions, even if they weren’t leashed. It was not unlike some Mideastern countries of Earth, only those women were always covered up. Here, nakedness simply accentuated their subjugation. It certainly made them more accessible for sex, she noted.

Beth attributed much of the cultural development to the imposing physical differences between the sexes. On Earth, the women were not all that much smaller and some women were even larger than the men. On Devon, all of the men she had seen so far were well over six feet, while the women were usually under five-eight, although it was hard to tell because many walked with their heads bowed.

This planet represented a monumental discovery that the doctor would enjoy exploring for years—but not as a participant, she reflected, pulling at her bonds. It’s one thing to observe how the Romans treated the Christians, it’s quite another to be thrown into the lion’s pit with the underdogs.

Beth heard the man repeat one word often to the crowd that sounded like, “detashia.” In context, she wondered if that meant “fair-skinned” or “exotic” or “valuable.” Maybe it just meant “hairless.” She was determined to learn their language, rather than wait for the Utes.

Jorja brought a number of bids before one man apparently won. There was some exciting jabbering, then the man came forward, trailed by a younger man and a woman. The man was even taller than Lumpy, Beth noticed. He had gray hair and a beard and seemed to command a certain amount of respect.

She thought the younger man might be his son. He had the same eyes set in a thin sallow face. If he had been an Earthman, she’d guess his age would be about twenty. The woman behind him seemed older, but Beth wasn’t sure if the woman was his mother, a slave—or both. In fact, the whole family dynamic would make a fascinating study.

Jorja struggled. She did not want to be separated from her crew members. She shouted at the men, angry and afraid. The buyer just laughed. He seemed amused by the spirited woman. He may live to regret that, Beth thought. She knew that Jorja was a black belt in karate and had taught classes for years, even while serving as an astronaut.

Money—or what seemed to be money—exchanged hands and the buyer roughly grabbed Jorja off the platform and pushed her at the younger man. He smiled and bent over to look at her lack of hair between her legs, jabbering comments. Jorja cursed at him. The young man picked her up as if she was a child and slung her over his shoulder. He strode away through the crowd. The older man stood there with his wife/slave and watched, puffing his chest with pride.

Beth was taken up next to be auctioned. Because she stood just five-four, there was no way she was going to resist like Jorja did. Lumpy could break her spine if he chose to. She allowed herself to be walked back and forth. She gritted her teeth when his fingers probed her breasts and privates. It wasn’t at all arousing this time.

The bids weren’t as numerous as Jorja’s had been, which hurt Beth’s feelings. If they knew I was a doctor, I’ll bet they’d bid higher. She caught herself, surprised she would think such degrading thoughts. Beth hadn’t heard that word, detashia , and thought about the differences between her and Jorja. Perhaps it simply meant “big.”

An older man in the crowd won the bid and came up to claim her. Beth looked him over carefully, wondering what she should expect from the humanoid. He looked harmless enough. Standing about six-three, he was actually one of the shortest men in the crowd. Beth wondered how long these natives lived, what they ate, what type of educational system they had. So many questions! She hoped she would be well treated while she tried to discover the answers to them.