Chapter 3
ROBBIE
“Well, according to my watch, we’ve been traveling for three days.”
The pronouncement had us nodding, for no other reason than to acknowledge what Sam had said. She might occasionally forget to wind it up, but she remembered more often than not. Having some sort of way to be able to sense the passage of time was a godsend. It let us know we’d survived one more day.
Fred cocked his head, a look of concentration on his face as the loudspeaker came on again.
I envied him his ability to understand what the fuckers were saying, but not how he came to be the one elected for the translation beam.
It had really messed with his vision, his eyes now having a sort of haze to them, and his depth perception was off.
“I think the engines have slowed down almost to a stop,” Carol said.
Fred nodded. “That jibes with what they’re saying. They are talking about docking with another ship and offloading cargo.”
The door opened, and four guards came in, along with two unarmed crew.
They attached four disks onto the coffin on the bottom of each stack of three.
As the last disk went on, a light flickered and a low hum sounded as the stacked units began to rise.
We watched as the two crew members guided the levitating units carrying the blissfully unconscious people out the door.
The two guards smirked at us, shaking the shock sticks and baring their teeth menacingly as they backed out through the door.
Once they were gone, I said, “I hate that there was nothing I could do to stop them from taking them.”
“There really wasn’t,” Fred said, laying a hand on my arm.
“Not even if we all rushed them,” Beth added.
“Yeah, they’d have just sent more guards,” one of the girls who’d finally decided to start talking to the rest of us, Mary, said.
“There’s four more, and they probably could pipe some of that gas in here that they used to knock us out to begin with,” Fred continued.
It made sense, but I still hated it. We didn’t need to understand the next announcement to know we were moving on now, delivery completed, as the engines got louder and that horrible lurch happened again.
Sam glanced down at her watch. “That took about half an hour.”
“Probably took a few minutes to connect the two ships,” Gary mused.
“Yeah,” I said.”But you know what? I’ve been thinking, and every one of us that’s male is gay or bi, while the women are straight. How the hell did they know that about us?”
Fred glanced away. “I was still recovering in bed after, um, spending some, ah, time with the captain of the ship when he spoke to someone on a video screen,” he sighed deeply.
“The guy was human, and I’m sorry to say that they’re fed that information, in exchange for technology.
Those sudden big breakthroughs we’ve had over the last few years?
All reverse engineered in exchange for data about people.
I was real upset about it, and the captain laughed at me, said that our governments happily placed trackers on our vehicles and stalked our social media, et cetera, to help facilitate our removal. ”
Silence reigned for several moments as we all digested the betrayal.
“But why all gay dudes?” Gary asked suddenly.
Fred looked at us sadly. “That’s just this shipment. Different shipments, different purposes. The captain gleefully told me that they often took males of any orientation to work in mines.”
None of us wanted to hear any more after that.
It was after they brought us our next meal several hours later that another change in our routine happened.
“What was that?” Mary screamed as the ship suddenly lurched without the light speed jump warning.
The lights began flashing red, then green, then blue, as an urgent voice spoke in a rapid fire series of clicks, chitters, and chirps.
Fred’s face lost all color. “Apparently, we’re under attack. Seems like they caught the attention of some pirates.”
I hadn’t thought things could get any worse, but pirates? Any alien ruthless enough to try to knock holes into another vessel obviously was not caring much about the living beings on board, which included us.
The ship rocked again, then a loud whine sounded.
“Sounds like they are fighting back,” Fred told us.
We hunkered down in a corner away from the boxes, not wanting to get tossed around during the battle. It didn’t last long.
“Okay, it sounds like he’s saying they got in a lucky hit and the other ship has lost engines. But um, we’re losing atmosphere in some parts of the ship and our engines are also damaged, so they’re going to set down somewhere for quick repair.”
“Think they’ll have to sell us off early to pay for parts?” Carol asked.
Fred and I both shrugged. ”Does it really matter?” I asked. “We’re going to be sold no matter what. Whether it's to one auction house or another, we’re still getting sold.”
“But what they are selling us for might be different,” Beth pointed out.
And now we were all thinking back to the cattle market theory. Or at least I was.
“Or decide to keep some of us and sell the rest,” Carol shivered.
Fred looked at each of us, his expression the same resignation as the rest of us. “We’re fucked seven ways to Sunday no matter what. Slavers are evil people, so there’s no positive outcome any way we slice it.”
Silence fell over our group, each of us alone in our thoughts as different scenarios played out in our imaginations.
The noises from the fight ceased, but the alarms kept blaring.
Fred merely pursed his lips and shook his head when asked what was being said, as it sounded different than before, maybe.
It was hard to tell. In any case, when Beth finally spoke up to ask, Sam’s watch said it was fifteen minutes short of seven hours from when fighting seemed to end and the alarms stopped.
Then a new announcement came on, and Fred’s face turned ashen.
“It says to brace for an ‘awkward landing’!” he shouted as we felt the ship’s engines slow.
We hurriedly scrambled to obey, clutching the trough and each other as best we could, because there wasn’t anything else.
It quickly became apparent that ‘awkward landing’ was putting it mildly.
This was a barely controlled descent. The engines whined as the ship was buffeted about and the hold we were in became almost unbearably hot.
Then there was a sickening feeling of free fall as the engines cut altogether.
“Shit - I think we’re gonna crash!” Fred shouted as a voice came over the loudspeaker, screaming in terror as it yelled out instructions.
An almighty thump sent us and the boxes careening around the space, accompanied by a horrific screeching sound.
The voice fell silent, and once the ship came to a standstill, I knew one thing.
I fucking hurt all over, even worse than I had before.
I was pretty sure I had a concussion and my left leg was screaming in agony, as was my right wrist, though my leg at least did not appear to actually be broken when I tested it.
. As I struggled to stand up, I looked about, grateful to be alive but unsure how long that could last once rescuers saw how damaged the merchandise was.
“Ohhh, add whiplash to the list,” I winced, grabbing the back of my neck with my less painful arm. “Everybody okay?”
“I think I broke my arm and my nose, and hurt my knee, but surprisingly enough, other than that, I think I’m okay,” said Fred’s voice in wonder.
“I’m good, but I think I broke my leg and dislocated my shoulder,” came Beth’s voice.
“I’m alive,” Patrick said, shuffling over. “Don’t ask me how, but I’m just really bruised all over.”
“I hurt my back, but I don’t think it’s broken. Smashed my hand against one of the crates though, and my fingers look all jacked up,” Gary called out, appearing from behind another pile of fallen boxes.
No one else spoke. “Sam? Carol? Anne?” I called out, my voice breaking. I staggered to my feet and we began moving to where we saw them lying.
“Anne’s neck is broken,” Patrick said. “I think she died on impact.”
Beth began sobbing.
“Carol and Sam are unconscious but breathing okay. I think they’ll be alright if they wake up. Sam’s arm looks broken, though.”
The rest of our small band were not so lucky.
We carefully laid them next to where Anne was, and Fred knelt down, closing their eyes before we each moved on to do so for the rest. I wish they’d spoken to us, so we had at least known their names, to add to the paltry memories we held of them.
No one deserved to die unknown or forgotten.
“Um, guys,” Gary said, “The door’s open. Just a bit, but I can see the hall.”
As one, we crept closer.
“I don’t hear anything,” Beth said, sniffling.
“Is that wind?” Patrick asked, holding his hand over the opening.“Think there’s a hull breach?”
“Shouldn’t we hear sirens or at least people since we crashed at the spaceport?” I asked.
“One of us should go check to see what’s happening,” Beth said. “Maybe they didn’t reach the port, and it’ll take a while for anyone to get here. Now might be our best chance at getting away.”
“I say it should be Fred because if they catch him and they get mad, he can communicate with them and let them know he was just looking for help. At least, that’s what he can tell them,” Carol suggested.
We were all in agreement, and those of us who could grabbed the edge of the door and pulled. Thankfully, it didn’t take much coaxing and slid all the way open.
“Um, I think I see why we felt wind,” Fred said, stepping out. ”I don’t think we’re at a spaceport. Also, the other end of the ship is gone.”
“Gone? What do you mean gone?” Patrick demanded.
I had to see this for myself. My jaw dropped open as I stepped outside of our former prison. The corridor ended in a jagged tear, the walls blackened. And beyond that? A snowy landscape that made me think of Antarctica or the North Pole or way up someplace in Canada in winter.
“Where the fuck are we?” I whispered.
Fred swallowed, leaning against the wall next to the door.
“I guess when they said they were going to set down to make small repairs, they meant someplace with breathable air so they could patch this up enough to get to an inhabited planet with a spaceport. Or they missed the spaceport entirely and we’re at one of the poles. ”
This was so not good.
“We’d best go back inside and close the door to conserve heat while we decide what to do.”
But of course, we couldn’t get the door to close again. Our bad luck was definitely holding. The door had slid into the pocket in the wall, and no amount of fingers tugging its edge, banging, or screaming could get it to move.