J McKenna: Slave Planet

“Yes, I seem to be picking up some basic terms,” she said, getting up. “Excuse me, I have to pee.” She padded outside naked, unconcerned that other fighters might see her. It was freeing somehow, being naked all the time in a world where nakedness was the norm. She squatted over the latrine, which was really nothing more than a hole carved into the ground, and released her bladder.

Jorja was beginning to like this culture, despite its drawbacks. She didn’t like the way women were treated, of course, but not all men were cruel bastards like Gulnark. If more men were like Keltar, there could be some meaningful reforms made. She could help the downtrodden women, just as she helped the natives of Ghana build a safe water supply when she had been with the Peace Corps so many years ago.

Careful, girl, that violates the Prime Directive!

Damn! Her conscience was right. Too bad. She would love to help these people. She wondered what would happen when the full complement of Earth scientists arrived. Wouldn’t they violate the directive just by being here? How could they not help shape the culture when they came in with their binoculars, listening devices, strange dress and manner? And isn’t that the same thing that Jorja and the away team had been planning to do before they were so quickly captured? So why is it so wrong to try to help people?

Too many questions! Jorja shook her head as she padded back to Keltar’s room. These issues should be left to the experts. My job is figure out a way to get back to the pod and fly out of here. She must not forget that.

When she came in, Keltar was talking in low tones to a stranger she hadn’t seen before. She sat on the bedding and pretended not to listen. Instead, she eavesdropped, hoping to learn something that could help them escape. Without her U.T. handy, she couldn’t make out much. But she did hear the words for “bet” and “profit.”

The stranger left. Keltar approached her, bringing the Ute with him. “Good news, Fighter Jor-ja. The odds favor you to lose.”

Jorja wasn’t sure how that was good news.

“Many people were impressed with your fighting skills, but many also believe Gulnark is a weakling,” he continued. “They do not believe you could prevail against a trained fighter. This makes our plan clear. Already, our agents are out placing bets on you to win. I will pair you with a good fighter, but one who is not too tall. If you can defeat him, we win many quitnums .”

“But what about my efforts to buy our freedom?”

“Freedom? No. You must have owner.”

“We just want to get away. Can’t you help us?”

Keltar shrugged. “We put up money. What do you have to trade?”

Jorja rocked back on her heels. She hadn’t expected this. “If I win you a lot of money, I figure that’s what I have to trade.”

He shook his head. “Not enough for all of you. That takes much profit. Perhaps we could win enough to buy one of your friends.”

Jorja stared at him as she fought back tears. One of her friends? Now what? Will I have to fight and win three times to buy them all?

Beth and Niktus strolled through the market, looking over the selections. She had no idea what would taste good, as the fruits and vegetables of this planet were unusual, to say the least. One vegetable looked like spoiled eggplant, but Niktus assured her it was delicious when cooked and mixed with nuts.

She carried a pouch over her shoulder and her “master” would buy items and place them in her bag. He carried nothing, she couldn’t help but notice. In fact, all the men with their slaves walked free, letting their women carry everything. Like the other women, Beth was leashed to her owner, although he carried it loosely. Did these men think that if women weren’t leashed, they would suddenly bolt? Or maybe it was just a sign of control.

A paleness caught her eye and she looked up to see Greta, naked and leashed as well, following Gorshun into the market area. “Master,” she said. “May I say a greeting to my friend?”

He glanced up and spotted Gorshun. “No, I think not. Gorshun is still angry with me.”

He pulled her away. As she looked back, she saw Greta staring at her and patting her market pouch . Does that mean what I think it does? The leash tightened, and Beth stumbled to catch up with Niktus.

Beth watched as a slave was instructed to bend over a cart and accept the hard erection of her master. Where just two days ago a scene like that had shocked her, now it seemed commonplace. She wasn’t sure if she would ever feel comfortable having sex in public, but she imagined she could eventually get used to it.

She paused to watch the scene, telling herself she was just being an anthropologist. Of course, seeing the hard cock glistening as it thrust back and forth, hearing the squishy noises of their coupling aroused her as well. The woman’s satisfied expression told Beth that she was not at all embarrassed by the public display. She caught Niktus’ eye and flushed red as he smirked at her. They moved on.

Shortly before the sun hit its apex, the crowd began to migrate from the market over to the main square. Greta and Beth were led to the low platform, although their owners stayed well away from each other.

Beth saw the tall, gaunt hotel owner arrive. She was disappointed not to see Ally with him. Instead, he had a native woman following behind him, leashed and placid.

Posts had been set up in the center of the platform, tied with ropes to make a crude ring. The jamalut was about to start.

The crowd milled around patiently, swelling in numbers until it seemed as if the entire village had arrived. Suddenly a hush fell over the crowd, then whispering began. Beth looked over to see a small crowd approaching. She recognized Jorja immediately. Right away, she could see their engineer wasn’t naked. She wore a loincloth and another wrap around her breasts. The crowd seemed to be amazed by this behavior. They pointed and tsked.

Beth felt proud of her crewmember. “You go, girl,” she whispered, then louder as she approached, “Hail to the Earth woman!” She raised a fist above her head. The men near her glared. Niktus yanked her chain, silencing her. Jorja saw her and smiled.

A man got up onto the platform and began speaking. Beth fished her U.T. out of her bag and began listening.

“Baktus! Today we have two special contests for you! Our champions Klasdor and Ripatus will fight to decide best of the best. Both men are in top shape and ready for this event. Much profit can be made if you bet correctly!

“Before that event, however, we have a novelty match for you. You have seen the strange women from faraway land called Earth. They look different, have many strange customs. They say women are not slaves in Earth! Shocking! One of them even dared to fight her owner! Many said she should be punished—tied to post and beaten until she learns to obey.” The crowd cheered lustily.

“Others say let us see how she does in ring with real fighter! Much profit possible! So today, we present Slave Jor-ja—queen of Earth!”

Jorja, fighting her overwhelming nervousness, clasped her hands over her head and danced, “Rocky”-style, as if her show of bravado would increase her confidence. She climbed up onto the platform and stepped between the ropes into the ring. Keltar came over and caught the announcer’s attention. He leaned down and listened while the trainer spoke into his ear. He nodded and straightened up.

“As you know, Gulnark has allowed this contest, rather than punish his slave himself. To make sure the fight is fair, he’s decided to let Keltar chose her opponent from among the well-trained and professional fighting corps.” Some in the crowd cheered, while others were not fooled and jeered Gulnark for not fighting her himself. Beth looked around and saw Dolnark and his son near the platform. Gulnark looked embarrassed.