Spaceways - King Of The Slavers Part 3

"And the other business?" Manjanungo's voice queried from the commbox.

"She found me irresistible."

"You and everything else with b.a.l.l.s," the commbox said.

"Anyhow, I'm hired. We should break orbit in five or six days."

"Not enough. I'm being delayed. Head for the second rendezvous point. Sub-light all the way. Clear?"

"Pos. Understood. Firm."

"What about crew?"

"A little trouble, but I have the three Jarps, a.s.suming I can clear their papers. Found a cake with good mate's papers. Knowing anything about a homely young one 43.named (Code Two) EAANDRJN? And are yer familiar with a (Code Three) FTRJTL-O-STK?"

He paused while Manjanungo's puter decoded their simple system. No need for more complicated ones. He knew Manjanungo's screen was displaying the two nonsenses he had enunciated and under them supplying the translations: NAJENDRA. KARMAL PAK.

"I know neither. I have mate trouble also. Hire at your own judgment. The other is-?"

"Just out of the locker. He's my steward. Apart from the Jarps, that's it."

"Did you promise him anything?"

"Only the moon and both suns."

"Fine. Promise 'em anything and give 'em setting Three. Unless he seems good material for us, of course. No unkindness to your guest, remember. That's enough. I shall see yer, Lortice. Eventually."

On that, without another word, Manjanungo had terminated communication.

After that Lortice had run into a little trouble. He worked and sweated down on Jorinne. He had to double-check Najendra. Had to get all Lady Seerava's gear cleared and onboard-enough for nine of her! He pestered burok to get the Jarps cleared. All three had been slaves, of course, and the papers of one of them were questionable. That worked out, slowly.

Jorinne was a rich and a busy planet. Freighters were constantly pulling away from Solijer or out of parking orbit, loaded with exports that were far from being all jewels and jewelry. There were lots of concentrates for smelters on other worlds-mostly other worlds' satellites. Jorinne had no smelters. The Josers could afford clean air. They exported raw and imported finished products. Why suffer a night sky tinged with the corona of 44.sublimated pollution that surrounded every metallurgical satellite and eventually snowed down onto a planet's surface? Too, the d.a.m.ned clan-chiefs insisted that yachts must pay their ways, but Lady Seerava would not hear of exterior cargo, and no one wanted to bother with the smallish load Lortice could carry, and Lady S. was b.i.t.c.hing, and d.a.m.ned if Lortice's mistress didn't catch on about Seera, and leave him, and a burok hand wanted more greasing . . .

Eventually he had his ship's mate, steward, and three-Jarp crew, along with his pa.s.senger and her asteroid-sized companion. And his cargo. The latter, neatly consigned, was the perfect window dressing. Everyone a.s.sumed and would keep right on a.s.suming that s.p.a.cer Lewuvul was on its way to Franji.

It wasn't. It was on its way to rendezvous with the rising new pirate who meant to challenge Ramesh Jagesh-war for the dubious t.i.tle of King of the Slavers.

It was the ship that Manjanungo wanted, not a hostage or kidnap-for-ransom victim. Nevertheless, his orders were explicit and repeated on that last comm-across-s.p.a.ce: Lady Roundheels was not to be harmed.

(Lortice a.s.sumed that Manjanungo knew all about Artisune Muzuni, who had not had any trouble with the superspooks until he had ama.s.sed a dangerously large fleet. Then TGO had wiped him out. The difference was that Manjanungo was more than ruthless and clever: he was smart. He also had a hostage on his ship, though presumably no one knew about that yet. If TGW/TGO did not challenge him, no one ever would.) At last the time had come. "Prepare to break orbit," Lortice said, and the reply was onscreen before he had p.r.o.nounced the last word: READY. DESTINATION CHIP INSLOTTED?.

45."Negatory. Just plot course to the next nexus. Sub-light all the way."

FIRM. ACCELERATION IN FIVE SECS. FOUR. THREE-.

More days pa.s.sed. Little else did, of interest, except for Seera. She was interesting-at first. Then Lortice's interest waned. It was a dreadful shame, to tire of a truly sensuous woman; to feel used by her. Lortice did, and then Pak did. After that it was just labor. Mechanical. A real shame.

Now she was locked up as no Most n.o.ble Lady should be, and Lortice felt less than good about it and d.a.m.n oh d.a.m.n it all, all they could do was continue to wait!

He decided that he could handle another drink. At least, he thought as he slid the pla.s.s under the nozzle, he's a great and rich employer, and we're waiting while he does something of really extraordinary importance!

Manjanungo entered his cabin with its warm Moroccan hangings and made sure the door was secure. With him locked inside, it would open only to his voice-code.

He rustled out of his long black coat and worked his shoulders in the full and full-sleeved white blouse, decorated and edged with lace. Grandee style, he called it, without being any more certain of that ancient word than he was of the "Santa Maria!" or just "Santa" he had taken up as expletive, when he remembered. Gleaming black tights and jackboots he retained, and the broad belt with the pistole thrust piratically into the belt, pra.s.s handle turned to his right hand.

Only after he had stored away the coat did he turn and deign to take note of his guest.

With his brows a.s.suming their supercilious lift, he moved closer. He surveyed her with pleasure.

46.My guest. My toy!

She cut quite a figure in any posture, and particularly this way, standing so erect. The position made the most of her inspiring 186 sems* of height, which to some was probably more daunting than inspirational. He had caused her ma.s.s of blue-black hair to be curled girlishly: "Make it cute," he had directed. Darling curls spilled down onto her forehead above arched, jet brows. They were oiled shiny because he liked them that way. He had mandated the dye for her eyelids, too: a deep, blue-tinged green.

At once girlish and a wh.o.r.e, he had said, and so he had made her, his captive.

Unusually for a woman so tall-taller than her captor by five sems-she was a flowing in-and-out line of fascinating, entirely female curves. Every sem of her unusual length was taut with youth and well-toned musculature. A sensual and extraordinarily s.e.xy woman.

bhe was also a clever and dangerous stalker, spy, investigator, and killer with a brain. A competent one, with many successes to her credit. That made his glow all the warmer at having taken her, back on Ghanj, and adorning her as he did. His toy.

My s.e.xy, overgrown girl of a toy!

Intaglio had "clothed" her and arranged her nicely for him. A rigidly erect, elegant line, motionless as a statue save for her breathing. And her eyes.

Tall, sheer, chocolate-hued hose climbed and hugged those extraordinarily long legs almost to their apex. There each was circled by a visibly tight, slightly too tight, char-brown ribbon. Each was tied in a bow whose long ends dangled down the sides of her shining thighs. So taut he could see their fine musculature under the 186 centimeters: six/ee/, one inch. Old Style 47.hose, those thighs. Her frilly little mockery of a skirt began just below her navel and ended just above the tops of the stockings, just at the base of her v.u.l.v.ar bulge. The frivolous skirt was an insult to such a woman, of course. That was deliberate, of course.

Because delicate pink was a girlish mockery to such womanly magnificence, her halter was a delicate pink edged with dainty white lace. Two circular cut-outs allowed half of each large breast to thrust through as if arrogantly, aggressively flaunting swollen, deep-red-dyed tips stabbing from their chocolate-dyed haloes. Red unto mauve, those nipples, since Intaglio had seen fit to bind each tightly with a loop of thin cord. Its color was not apparent to Manjanungo because the swelling and darkening of her tied-off nipples quite obscured it.

Were they as sore as the very large boils they resembled, he wondered idly; or numb, tied off with all the circulation stopped?

A great deal of something had been stuffed into her mouth under the broad strap of leather that obscured it, judging by the exaggeratedly lengthened jawline.

Her hands were dragged tautly behind her. And behind the bra.s.s pole, thick as his thigh, that Manjanungo had caused to be installed here in the master's cabin of his s.p.a.cegoing yacht. (For just this purpose, though this woman was not the first to be bound to it.) She stood so erect because of the strap under her chin, across her neck, and secured to a ring behind the pole.

She stared at him from those marvelous, incredibly olive-hued eyes. In them he saw only a hint of their former flash and combative fire.

It was not that he had broken her. Not her!

She knew that she was drugged past resistance. She knew that he had done it. He had kept her drugged this way, now, for almost a month (if she had any concept 48.of time. Probably not). She knew all the acts she had performed on him and his men and girls and even Intaglio. She knew all the places her mouth had been; knew all the organs and things that had plied her three available orifices as well as the cleavage of her b.r.e.a.s.t.s. She was aware too that she had not been physically forced; the drug had made her softly willing, if not overly enthusiastic. She knew all the acts performed on her, too, by him, and by Jenk and Javad, and by those he called girls, of his s.p.a.cegoing harem. When she had crawled and wagged her tail-and the flowing tail on the end of the rod her body had been forced to contain-she had been aware of it, and she would remember now. She was aware, somewhere in the back of her once-good mind, of her own degradation and use; everything she had done and everything done to her.

The dark hose covered the whip-marks on her thighs. Behind her, her fingernails had been clipped and sanded so short that she would have both difficulty and pain in trying to pick up anything.

Silent, staring, her captor drew his pistol and used its barrel to lift her tiny, girlishly frilly microminiskirt. He let her see his smile at what he revealed. She was plugged and ginger-strapped so that her hairless v.u.l.v.a bulged as fat and obscenely as Intaglio had been able to make it.

Very good. Intaglio has a reward coming.

He would give it to her. She would receive her reward orally. First from himself, and then from a pottle. Once she had mouthed him and taken him deep, and swallowed, he would allow Intaglio to get as thoroughly falling down drunk as she wished, as she always wished. And without the corset, as well. A fine reward, for such as Intaglio!

The time might well come when this one would welcome such a reward, too.

49.In the meanwhile .. .

He returned his cap-and-ball replica to his belt. Smiling only a little, using only his fingers on tied-off, blood-filled nipples, Manjanungo began again to torment Val.u.s.triana See, agent Prime of TGO.

4.

"D'you think you could give her a bit more attention, Karm?"

Pak rolled his eyes at his captain. He wanted to say, She wearing you down, old-timer? and he didn't dare. "Ahm, well..."

Lortice sighed and made a helpless gesture. "I've just got to run the ship and monitor comm-all communications."

"Uh. d.a.m.n. And I never thought I could get too much of a good thing. Maybe we could get the mate to do her share?"

"Lady Seerava only likes men-or boys," Lortice amended, and added, "our mate cannot qualify, Karm." As a matter of fact I'm not sure that Najendra qualifies as a female either . . . I think she must have been fissioned, rather than born. Meanwhile he saw Pak roll his eyes, and the captain said, "Holy Vike, lad, it isn't as if she isn't a luxuriously desirable woman!"

"And a voraciously desiring one who makes a man feel used and d.a.m.ned near raped," Karmal said, giving his captain a dead-eyed stare. He had an idea that he had probably just named the reason why Lortice needed to monitor the comm so badly that he'd no longer have 50.51.time for the ever-ready Seera. And only three days out from Jorinne, at that!

"Look here, Cap'm. We have three charming Jarps on this ship and they're pining away for the dear lady. Can't we try that? A sort of relief unit?"

Lortice had looked at him, and looked some more, contemplatively, and sighed. That night Lady Round-heels made it with her first Jarp, despite what her brother-in-law had thought. And her second. The captain saved back Vermillion, just in case. It came Ver-million's turn the follow afternoon. Lady Seera was crazy about "him" too. (She called all three of the aliens "he" and "him." Technically speaking, the hermaphrodites from planet Jarpi were its. Each was overequipped with two b.r.e.a.s.t.s, one t.e.s.t.i.c.l.e, one ovary, and one each smallish p.e.n.i.s and v.a.g.i.n.a. Also bright, bright red hair above violently orange skin and coltish legs.) The three Jarps also took to Seerava like-well, like Jarps to any s.e.xual partner. Jarps were like that. (Lady Roundheels, Karmal Pak mused, should have been a Jarp!) And now . . .

Now three more days had pa.s.sed with her imprisoned, along with her monumental "guardian," and Pak was actually considering making some sort of pa.s.s at Ship's Mate Najendra. And the three Jarps were making unhappy noises. Lortice, Karmal, and Najendra held a Meeting.

"The trouble is that I don't really want to deny either milady or my Jarp crewmembers," Captain Lortice said, crossing his legs and trying to look comfortably relaxed.

"Simple," the input came. "Get her out of that hole of a hold."

52."It's just that I can't see how we can remove her from that hole we never should have put her in to begin with, and into a cabin-without having to fight off the Juggernaut. That may well get us a hysterical Lady Seera or worse. He's been in the family for ages."

"I've been in mine for quite awhile," Pak said, "and I don't fancy the thought of that man-mountain slinging me right through the nearest section of hull."

The quite-short Najendra crossed one baggily-draped leg over the other. Karmal blinked at the bulge of her calf. He shook his head. No, no-he was blinking at the way the orange pants worked against her bright green tunic! Did the idiot always have to choose articles of clothing that hated each other and her?

"Why not drug the next meal we pa.s.s in to her and the Juggernaut," she said. "When they're both horizontal, we go in and remove her. Put her in a cabin and let one of the Jarps be there to console her when she wakes. We might even give what's-his-name-"

"Boroboodhi," Pak said, dragging it out sarcastically.

She nodded. "We might even give the Juggernaut a bit of a wiping off and a change of clothing while we're at it. I smelled him on the tray when Vampy brought it back today."

"Hey, good idea!" Karmal Pak said, with the most enthusiasm he'd shown for days. "You're really quick, Najendra. Extra bright!"

She gave him a brief sideward glance from those weird pale eyes that let him know she knew he was working to get on her good side and that she wasn't at all interested. Lortice meanwhile sighed and gave his handsomely graying head a brief shake.

"We are plotters, mutineers, pirates, and kidnap- 53.pers," he said. "Unfortunately, we do not have a sign of a drug onboard this ship!"

Karmal would have laughed aloud except that the statement was a negative. There went Najendra's plan.

"Pardon me, Captain," she said, leaning a little forward. "But we do have drugs...o...b..ard. Every ship does. Aside from the Heaven High I smell on Pak now and again, Lewuvul has a superb shipdoc. Any shipdoc is well equipped with various drugs. Surely a powerful sedative is among them. And tranqs."

"Just how do we get 'em out of a self-contained automatic daktari unit," Pak almost blurted, anxious to be off the subject of the quality filter-tipped marijane sticks he smoked only in private. d.a.m.n the woman! And she just would not call him "Karmal," either, but always maintained that distance by referring to him only as "Pak"-and sometimes as "steward."

"We ask SIPAc.u.m!" Lortice did blurt, and with a merry smile he swung to the puter-link in his cabin.

Despite the luxuriousness of Lewuvul's equipment and appointments, its Ship's Inboard Processing And Computing Unit (Modular) was not the vocally interactive kind. The captain had to key in his queries. He did, while Pak and Najendra waited almost breathlessly.

Eventually SIPAc.u.m "decided" that the need was great. It actuated the cybernetic medical unit-ship's daktari or shipdoc-to yield up some of its treasure. The trio hurried to the smallish cabin in which rested the self-sealing cylinder that formed a sort of coffin-like hospital/doctor/nurse for any patient laid in it. They found that it had already obligingly decanted an unnecessarily large quant.i.ty of non-addictive somnoquik.

Ten mins later the excited trio was excitedly relaying the plan and new regime to the excited trio of Jarps. Six- 54.teen mins later the mutineers, in their great kindness, slid a couple of pla.s.ses of strong drink in to the prisoners. The strong drink was a.s.sinibasca, the excellent Joser corn-based whiskey, and this time it was a lot stronger than that.

While berbun-and-water was not Seera's drink of choice, she needed a drink. Here was a drink. Seera drank. So did Boroboodhi, though d.a.m.ned if the behemoth didn't wait for her gracious permission!

Three mins later he was bent anxiously over his longtime employer's widow, who had pa.s.sed out. He lasted an incredible min and a half longer, obviously fighting the drug and setting medical history for resistance. Then Boroboodhi crashed to the deck like a toppled gantry.

Within three mins the totally limp Seera was out of the makeshift holding tank. In it, Vampy and Serendip swiftly stripped and bathed the giant, all the while tootling and tweetling to each other while they worried about how fast he might regain consciousness. A Jarp's long thin tongue in its little round mouth in a long thin jaw gave it a language of whistles and trills rather than words. All three on Lewuvul understood Erts, the language of humans-who called themselves the Galactic race, Galactics. All three possessed translation helmets that enabled them to be understood, in Erts. No one liked it much when they switched off those transla-helms, naturally. Captain Lortice thought it best not to object, within limits. The rule was that the Jarps kept the system of straps and studs on their heads when on duty and/or in the presence of the three Galactics.

Having seen to the lock and taken other security precautions, Vermillion and Najendra stretched Seera on her own bed in her own luxuriously appointed cabin. Then they gathered those things she might use'as effective weapons.

55."We should bathe her," Vermillion suggested, looking hopeful.

"Negatory," the hardly attractive ship's mate said, with a shake of that whacked-off hair. "After three days in that dreadful tank, think how much she'll enjoy bathing herself, Vermillion-and don't tell me how much you would enjoy doing it for her."

Her wink surprised the Jarp, who had been a slave not so long ago and had been befriended by few Galac-tics. Maybe this homely Galactic was h.o.r.n.y, Vermillion thought, although it detected no pheromonal output. Well, if she continued to be so nice, the sacrifice could be made.

"However-you will be here when she wakes, Vermillion, and maybe she'd love for you to join her in the shower."

"Lovely thought," its translahelm said. "It is hard to imagine how I can contain myself until then, Ship's First!"

"Call me Mate, s.p.a.cefarer Vermillion-and do contain yourself. The elixir of pleasure, when deferred, is twice as sweet as that gulped hurriedly."

It put that long, pointy-chinned, round-mouthed face on one side. "An old saying among Galactics?"

"Among some of us, pos. And it's true, too."

"Shall I remain here to watch over her?"

Again she smiled. "Not right here-not necessary. Unfortunately we had no idea which of them would drink from which pla.s.s, so both were loaded with enough of the drug to put Boroboodhi away." She checked the chron sewn into the cuff of her gra.s.s-green tunic's long, severe sleeve. "She will not awake for at least eight hours. Sorry, Vermillion. I do need you at the con, though."

Vermillion cast a round-eyed glance at the woman 56.they had neatly covered with a battened-down sheet. Vla, the b.u.mps, curves, and mountains under that pale lavender sheet!

"Good," the Jarp said. "If I had to stay here with her this way for eight hours I'd go stark screamin' fobbo!"

"So might she, when she wakes," Najendra said, "if she's alone. We'll loud-monitor the cabin for sound. In any case, you'll come back here in-let's say seven hours." She held the door open for the Jarp. "All right?"