Chapter 10
CHAPTER 10
Gabriel
I’m thrashing, throwing kicks and punches, desperate to feel something other than helplessness and grief as les garcons try to wrestle me into the shower.
I’m caught off guard by the sight of a new female pet. She’s breathtaking—blonde hair tipped with violet ends. Our eyes meet, and for a moment, I forget the pain, forget this damn place. Then another blow sinks into my gut, driving the air from my lungs. She calls out something in an American accent, and reality rushes back.
I lurch forward, fighting les garcons with everything I have left, until one jabs me with a needle of calming fluid, the other with a taser. Merde. My body grows heavy, the drug washing over me in waves. I struggle to keep my eyes open—half to keep sight of her, half out of sheer defiance—but the darkness creeps in anyway.
I know the drill. I’ll wake up scrubbed clean, locked in a cage, ready to play the part of the perfect human pet again. Only this time, there’s a new face in the menagerie—and maybe, just maybe, one that changes everything.
“Hey!” I hear as my mind slowly begins to come out of my drug induced stupor. “Hey you.”
I know I’m still in the cleansing room by the sickly sweet smell of lavender soap before I even open my eyes. But I don’t recognize the voice that’s woken me up. It’s not Mags. She’s been in captivity so long that she refuses to use any human languages. She probably can’t even remember them.
I remember now. The American—the English speaker—she must be in the cage next to mine. I glance around quickly to ensure les garcons are nowhere in sight. The room is dead quiet. They’re likely eating their evening meal, or perhaps it’s late enough that they’ve gone to bed and we’ve been accidently left here.
Satisfied that the coast is clear, I take a deep breath and, for the first time since Fifi died, I risk speaking in my native tongue. I keep my voice low. “Parles-tu francais?”
A pause. Then her response comes cautiously, “Sorry, I don’t speak French. Only English.”
I switch to English, clumsy from years of disuse. “Okay,” I say. Using the reflection in my water jug, I catch a glimpse of her—blonde hair streaked with purple and pink. So I wasn’t imagining that. “Are you sick?” I ask.
“No. Why?”
“The ends of your hair... they’re purple,” I explain, unsure if it’s a mutation or some alien interference.
“How can you see me?” she asks, and I hear the rattle of her cage as she shifts.
“Barely. Through the water jug. I see your colors.” I pause, struggling to find the words in English. “Where are you from? Another Imperial ship or have you just arrived from Earth?”
“ Of course , I’ve just arrived from Earth, minus a few weeks with some octopus-looking aliens.” Frustration tinges her words. “Where am I now?”
“écoute bien, Américaine,” I reply, settling into an explanation. “This ship is called the Luminous Arc . It’s an Imperial vessel. Our owner, Aefre, trains human pets to compete at the highest levels of human pet competitions. He’s one of the best trainers in the galaxy. Kaelin, his assistant, is crueler than Aefre with the physical punishments but lighter on the mental stuff. But no matter what, always remember they both only want what they think is the best for us.”
She’s so silent, I wonder if she’s still listening. I wouldn’t be surprised if she didn’t hear me anymore. The only memory I have of my first days here are scattered nightmares at best. Everything’s a blur in the beginning of pet life.
After a few minutes of silence, she says, “None of this makes any sense. How can we be pets to men who look almost exactly like us? They’re just... grey humans. Why are they doing this to us?”
I sigh, running a finger along the familiar cold metal corner of my cage. “Je me demande ca depuis des années. I’ve been wondering this for years,” the bitterness in my tone is unmistakable. “And I’m still no closer to an answer.”
She begins to say something, but then abandons it, and asks instead, “How long have you been here?”
“At least six years,” I reply. “Imperial years—they’re longer than Earth years. But during the first years I didn’t count.” I pause then admit, “It took me awhile to accept what had happened. That I really was— here .”
“How old were you when they took you?”
“I was sixteen,” I say. A thought strikes me. “What year is it on Earth?”
“My last day on Earth was September 29, 2024, and that was about a month ago.”
I do the math in my head. “Then I’m twenty-eight. Earth years old.”
“I’m twenty-eight too.” A silence, and then, “What’s your name?”
“Gabriel,” I tell her. “It’s my human name.”
“What’s your alien name?”
“No. I refuse to introduce myself that way. You’ll learn soon enough. What’s your real name?”
“Briar.” Before she can elaborate, I interrupt.
“I also don’t want to know what they’ve named you. No matter what they do to me, I’ll always call you Briar.”
“They’ll hurt you for calling me Briar?”
“They’ll shock us by our collars for speaking any human language, even just our names. Aefre and Kaelin are very strict about that. They believe using our native languages makes us stupid and that it gives them brain damage to even listen to it.”
She’s quiet again.
“Briar, did I scare you with the truth?”
“No,” she says softly. “I was just thinking... wondering how I ended up in this nightmare.”
“I’m sorry you’re here.”
“You didn’t do it,” she says. “Did you?”
I chuckle despite myself. “Non.”
“Were you being punished for calling someone by their human name when you were dragged in here?”
“No, I misbehaved in a different way,” I hesitate, then elaborate, “C’était pour me sentir vivant—to feel alive. To remind myself I’m still human. That my body is still mine, not theirs. But now that you’re here, I’ll gladly take a beating every time I call you Briar.”
“Don’t do that. Just call me?—”
“ Non! Don’t tell me your pet name. I’m happy to take the punishment if it means keeping the smallest bit of humanity alive between us. Our names—they’re all we have of our past lives when we were free.”
Her voice softens. “Okay. Is there something I can do for you?”
“Tell me about the last day you had on Earth,” I say. “Not the aliens—the part before. What were you doing?”
Leaning against the cold bars of my cage, I close my eyes as she begins describing a sunlit mountain trail, squirrels darting through the underbrush, and the small red notebook she used for writing down her thoughts. There’s a musical quality to her voice, a soft lull that carries me far from this metallic prison, back to a world of fresh air and open skies. I feel such a connection to this stranger…
“Gabriel?” She speaks my name quietly, snapping me out of the daydream.
I blink, focusing on her blurred reflection in the water jug again. “I’m here. Désolé, it’s just... been a long time since I’ve spoken English. Most of the other pets speak Spanish.”
“And French?”
“Not so much French. But you have replaced a French woman. Her name was Fifi.”
“What happened to her?”
“My English isn’t good enough to explain,” I lie, unwilling to share the truth yet. Briar has already heard enough horror stories for one night.
“Do you speak the grey men’s language?”
“Imperial. Yes. You’ll learn it too. It’s not so hard, after you get the basics, but getting the foundation laid is brutal, unfortunately.”
“Why would I want to learn their language? Are we pets or are we people? On Earth we don’t train our pets to talk unless they’re parrots.”
“We have to learn their language to compete and to survive in the world of human pet competitions,” I reply simply. “Follow the rules, Briar. That’s all you can do. There are worse things for a human to be in the galaxy than being Aefre’s show pet.”
“Are you trying to convince me or yourself?”
“Always myself,” I admit.
She falls silent again, and I take the opportunity to redirect the conversation. “Tell me, have you ever been to Paris?”
“Once. It was beautiful. Just a few months ago Paris hosted the summer Olympics. They held some swimming competitions in the Seine.”
I let out a groan of disgust. “La Seine? Quelle horreur. Those poor swimmers! Or is it clean now?”
She laughs lightly, it sounds enchanting amidst the darkness. “I don’t think so. Some of the swimmers threatened to sue.”
“Bien s?r,” I reply, grinning despite myself.
I watch Briar try to find my face in the reflection of her water jug. She’s still new to all this—still thinks there’s a logical explanation for why we’re locked away like exotic animals.
“Gabriel,” she asks quietly, “what’s beyond this part of the ship? Is Aefre the captain? How many humans are trapped here?”
I let out a slow breath, glancing at the corridor to make sure we’re not overheard. “Aefre is just the trainer who owns the ship. There’s a whole crew on the other side with a captain. I’ve heard him talking to Aefre many times over communications. Aefre keeps us ‘show pets’ separate from the main crew. There are seven pets on this side now, including you. I don’t know how many other human pets are on the other side, if any. There’s a corridor—a literal boundary line—that divides their world from ours. I’ve crossed it a few times, but…” I trail off, memories of failed escape attempts surging back. “The other side isn’t much different—but there are Imperials everywhere, acting like they own the stars, giving orders, and talking about far-off planets. They’ve got smaller ships in the hangar, but stealing one isn’t easy.”
“You tried?”
“Oui. More than once. I was caught each time and punished—badly. Eventually, they programmed the computer to lock me out of every security system. They think humans are stupid, or maybe they just prefer to keep us that way by beating us down. They never expected me to figure out their codes or remember the passphrases to move freely around the ship after teaching me their language.”
“That’s good to know.”
“They’re going to watch you closely, you know. You’re the seventh human pet. In Imperial culture, that number means luck. They’ll treat you like some kind of omen.” My gaze drops to the metal floor, remembering how they fussed over ‘lucky’ pets in the past. “But none of that changes the way they see you or us when it comes down to it. To them, we’re ornaments—a spectacle to show off. They don’t recognize our sentience. To them, we’re just subpar Imperials. A couple steps below them in the evolutionary chain.”
“Has anyone ever escaped and made it back to Earth?” she asks.
I hesitate. The truth bitter on my tongue. “Peut-être… maybe. But not Earth. I’ve heard rumors about safe havens for humans in the galaxy, far from the Empire. But, rumors are the only currency we have in a place like this.”
Briar doesn’t reply and I let the silence pour in between us. I have no doubt her mind is spinning with all of this.
I hear faint footsteps in the corridor, growing louder. Les garcons .
“We can’t talk anymore now. They’re returning,” I say softly, barely above a whisper. “But I’ll take every beating they give me for your name— and never doubt that it’s worth it to me.”
“And to me, Gabriel,” she says and her pronunciation of my name ripples electrically through my body as if she told me she loved me.
“I’ll bleed a thousand times to taste the humanity of your name on my tongue, Briar.”
She tries to respond, but I cut her off quickly. “ Chut! Don’t ruin our beautiful conversation with the pain they’ll bring us both if they hear.”
The door hisses open, and les garcons stride in. Aefre follows behind them with that signature, measured grace of his. His sharp green eyes lock onto mine through the bars of my cage.
“Ember,” he begins, his tone oddly conversational. “Why do you insist on these outbursts lately?”
I know better than to answer.
The calm in his voice is just a mask. I know, my punishment has already been decided. He straightens, hands clasped behind his back. “No treats for the rest of the week,” he says. “No playtime.”
I meet his gaze, forcing my face into a blank mask. He doesn’t want the truth—that I’m not some mindless creature. He wants me to uphold the fantasy that I’m just a pet. To survive, I have to play along.
“I know you were talking to Ash in a human language,” he adds casually.
Ash. The name scrapes at my ears. I press my lips together, then figure I have nothing more to lose today. “Why do you call her that?”
He arches an eyebrow. “Why do you care?”
“I care because it’s a dirty name,” I say. “She’s anything but a burned out fire.”
“Why I chose that name for her… well, Ember, it’s a delicate topic. I’m not sure it’s appropriate for humans to know.”
“D’accord. I can handle delicate.”
Aefre lets out a low, condescending chuckle. “You’ve always been curious, Ember. One of your better traits. But don’t let it blind you to your place. Human pets are fragile, emotionally and otherwise.”
Fragile. I can almost taste the insult. Tu es fragile , I think. Not me. Still, I don’t argue. There’s no point. My gaze slides to Briar’s cage, but she wisely keeps her head down.
Aefre leans in. “Ash suits her—she’s a flame contained, smoldering in the ashes of what she was. I will forge her into a superior human. And the perfect partner for you, Ember.”
My blood boils. “Briar suits her better.”
Aefre’s eyes narrow. “You will call her Ash, or you’ll be punished.”
After a few seconds, I dip my head in a show of submission I don’t feel.
As he turns to speak with les garcons, I sneak another glance at Briar. Fear shines in her wide green eyes. Tiens bon, I silently urge her. Hold on.
“Open Ash’s cage,” Aefre orders. “I’m taking her now. Kaelin will fetch Ember later.”
Les garcons yank open the cage beside mine, and I press up against my own bars to get a better look at Briar. Her long blonde hair fades into violet at the ends, but it’s the blonde to bright pink ombre mass between her legs that slams into me like a punch to the gut. The alien “styling” is such a violation. It’s a grim reminder of how they see us as accessories to be groomed and trained, not people with dignity or choice.
My gaze travels upward. No obvious changes beyond her underarms—thick with dyed hair.
My eyes catch on Aefre and I recognize the glint in his eyes when he looks at her full breasts with large rosy areolas. And I can guess what he has planned for them tonight.
Guilt sinks into my gut. I didn’t warn her because I thought it’d already been done.
I watch as Aefre leads her away, her attractive bare backside on the verge of disappearing through the door. Suddenly, I can’t hold back. “See you later, Briar!”
Aefre pauses mid-step, touches his ring, and a spike of pain rips through my body. By the time it subsides, I’m panting. But I smile. Saying her name was worth it.