J McKenna - Slave Planet

Jorja was shocked. “Sounds like cheating!”

“Cheating? What is cheating?”

When Jorja explained, he laughed. “We call that ‘controlling profits.’ It is honorable business. Secret is to guess which way fight will go. Now, you try small fight. Parmus? ”

A man stepped from the group of fighters. He was slender, about three inches taller than Jorja—a worrisome height, to be sure, but she could manage. Keltar made him put on gloves and helmet. “Take it slow,” he warned the big man. “She is valuable. Much profit.”

They circled each other. Jorja watched for openings, weaknesses. He expected an easy victory, yet he was being overly cautious until his pals began taunting him.

“Go, go, what are you afraid of?”

“Letting the girl frighten you, Parmus?”

Their goading made him rash. He lunged and tried to grab her upper arm. She blocked him, stepped to the side and kicked him hard in the solar plexus. The wind exploded out of him. She pulled at his arm, then stepped in and jammed her right foot behind his knee, knocking him to a kneeling position. Then she whipped the leg around and caught him on the back of the head with her foot, knocking him to the dust.

The other fighters’ taunts ceased as if they had all suddenly lost their ability to speak. Parmus scrambled up immediately, embarrassment coloring his face. “Not fair!” He shouted. “She kicks!”

“How else do you expect me to keep up with you?” She responded. “You’re taller, you outweigh me—I need my kicks just to survive.”

“Hmm. I agree. That’s how you defeated Gulnark. We will call fight as a ‘no-rules’ match. I do not want you to change anything. The crowd will go wild over you,” Keltar said, smiling. “I am going to make a fortune.”

“Don’t you mean we are going to make a fortune?” Jorja wanted to make sure she would be included in the profits, otherwise, there would be no reason to fight. She had to make enough to free her crew.

“Women do not need …,” he started to say, then stopped. “We can work out deal. Meanwhile, let us go again.”

Jorja fought two others before she was too exhausted to continue. One of the men had been six-six and weighed more than 250 pounds. He was able to plow right through her kicks and knock her to the ground time and again. He was just too big. Keltar took note of this and told her he’d make sure her opponents were ‘short fighters’ of six-two or -three.

She pulled out all the stops to impress the trainer, anxious to have him make bets on her behalf so she might buy her friends back. She hadn’t thought it all the way through yet, but she was working on it.

It took all day to hike thirteen kilometers south through the forest. Kate was grateful for the company of Sulala and Lilani. Before they started, Sulala suggested Kate ditch the torn white tee-shirt and don native animal skins, to better blend into the forest. That advice may have saved her from being spotted by a pair of slave traders. Crouching behind some trees, watching the slavers’ cart move along the narrow trail, Kate was glad she had listened. Her white shirt would’ve been like a beacon against the green forest.

As they walked, Kate learned quite a bit about the women on this planet. Some women objected to their status, but few did anything about it. It was just the way things were. The men maintained firm control of the village leaderships. Any suggestions that women be given more control over their lives were always shot down by those in charge. It was a real Catch-22 for the women. They couldn’t become elders, so they couldn’t change policies that would allow them to become elders.

Not all women objected, of course. Many had loving masters, who treated them well and encouraged them to excel in areas that were traditionally female, such as cooking, raising children, or craftwork. Others objected to this narrow definition of their lives and tried to rebel in whatever way they could.

Sulala had the misfortune to be owned by a cruel master, which led to her revolt. One day, after a particularly bad beating for a minor infraction, Sulala managed to free herself later that night and run for the safety of the forest. Her “husband” or “master”—the words appeared to be interchangeable in the Baktu language—looked for her for a while, then gave up and bought a new slave.

When Sulala first arrived, there were just a handful of women in the forest, all living in fear—fear of staying in the forbidding woods and fear of returning home to abuse. They were disorganized, starving and demoralized. Sulala had the idea that there was strength in numbers. Through friends, she sent secret messages back to her village and those nearby, letting women know that there was an alternative to enduring bad masters. Soon, others filtered into the woods, finding the ragtag group, adding strength and talents to their camp.

Food was still a problem, however. Few of the women had learned to hunt effectively, so their efforts weren’t as successful as they had hoped. But they were learning. Kate was so moved by this that she vowed to zap a beast for them if she had the chance, and to hell with the Prime Directive.

It was slow going in the forest. It would have been far easier if they could come out to the edge of the plain and travel without obstacles. Of course, that would have exposed them to the slavers. They stayed to the trails unless they caught wind of an approaching traveler, then crept off to hide out until they could see who was approaching. Once it had been a single woman who had recently fled her master. She sobbed when she saw Sulala, knowing that she had found the Bakchari at last . The chief took her aside and greeted her quietly, then told her how to find the others back up the trail.

They camped off the trail, deeper into the woods. Sulala risked a small fire. They had only nuts and berries to eat until Kate said she was going hunting and left them by the fire as dusk approached. They had wanted to go with her. Kate told them she hunted better on her own. She crept through the forest until she found another small mammal and shot it with her phaser. When she returned, they were surprised at her success.

“Are you sure you do not want to join our camp?” Sulala asked. “We could use a skilled hunter.”

“I would very much like that, but I have to find my friends and return to our homeland,” Kate said.

Lilani skinned and cooked the beast. It was delicious. Tasted just like pork, Kate decided. Or maybe chicken. Thus sated, they agreed on a watch schedule and went to sleep. When it was Kate’s turn to keep watch, she sat with her scanner and gauged distances and tried to figure out what she would do to rescue her crew. She had a glimmer of a plan, now it was time to flesh it out. She sat there in the darkness, illuminated only by the glowing coals from the fire, and added details until she thought she just might stand a chance.

Beth was changing her opinion of these people. When she first was captured, she felt the men were incredibly cruel toward women and the women were far too submissive for their own good. But living with Niktus and observing him, she could see women had more power here than she first thought. It all depended upon the man.

Niktus was a good man. He remained dominant, to be sure, because that was his nature. Still, he listened to Beth and took her advice on occasion. He knew she was smart and her race surpassed his own—the Utes and the other strange devices they had carried made that clear.

He also proved to be an incredible lover. Their couplings occurred morning and night. Hot, lusty sex like Beth had never experienced before. She couldn’t get enough of him. Beth had long since stopped worrying about what Greta might think of her actions. Greta even indicated she was a bit jealous of all the good lovin’ that was going on under her nose.