Chapter 54 Your Choice, Eve #2
Rafe steps forward, his composure barely masking his rage at my treatment. "Her shoulder blades. Left for Lorian, right for me."
The doctor nods, and a ripple of appreciation runs through the gallery. Camera drones float closer, capturing every moment of my degradation for the galactic newsfeed.
"Hold still," the doctor orders, as if I had a choice with the bailiff's hands clamped on me. Then to make it extra terrible, in case I wanted to watch my body be mutilated, I can see what the doctor is doing on a holographic screen above my head.
He presses a long silver instrument that’s ice cold against my right shoulder blade, and then pain explodes across my skin.
I press my lips together as the device burns Rafe's geometric pattern into my flesh, the precise lines and angles that symbolize his exactitude and control etched permanently into my body.
The doctor moves to my left side without pause, and a different kind of pain erupts there as Lorian's mark takes shape, and I bite my lip to keep from crying out.
I won't give this alien courtroom the satisfaction of hearing me scream.
I try to concentrate on anything else as blood trickles down my back as the markings seal themselves to my flesh.
"Ownership confirmed and registered," the doctor announces.
"The marks will heal within days but remain visible for the duration of your life to let everyone know, that even after your sentence was served, you were owned.
Now for the translator," he says, reaching for a different tool, then grabs my head roughly, fingers digging into my scalp as he tilts it to access the translator.
Then the doctor jams the extractor behind my ear without warning.
Pain pulses through my skull as he twists his tool deeper, searching for the translator's connections with brutal efficiency.
I scream, but he only presses harder, annoyed by my cries. It feels like he's pulling out threads of my brain. Agony whites out my vision. Blood pours down my neck, hot and thick. The migraine that follows is crushing, making every sound and light feel like an assault.
But worse than the pain is what comes after. The alien voices around me become something monstrous. What was refined Imperial through the translator now sounds like grinding metal mixed with tonal howls, all harsh consonants punctuated by notes that pierce my already screaming head.
I realize now that I'd only been playing at belonging here.
The translator made me feel sophisticated, like I'd earned my place through merit and intelligence.
But I never learned a single word of their language.
I never even tried. And now I'm stripped bare of that illusion of communication and revealed as the primitive creature they think humans are. Deaf and dumb to the world around me.
"Please," I say through the pain, but Lorian's expression goes carefully blank. When I repeat it, louder, the bailiff's grip tightens with warning.
I'm not speaking a language anymore. To them, I'm making animal sounds. Meaningless noise because most galactic translators purposely don’t include human languages.
Tears run down my face now that I fully understand.
The chances that the Sovereigns tire of me now without being able to speak or have a function for them have just gone up tenfold.
The Chief Arbiter speaks again, and it sounds like controlled violence boxed up as ceremony, and I've never felt so alien or so absolutely alone in my life.
The court doctor says something to the Chief Arbiter, probably confirming the translator's removal.
Rafe responds to the Chief Arbiter, and his voice is unrecognizable.
Someone makes a joke that includes my name. I hear "Eve" buried in those alien syllables, and I know, I’m being mocked.
But then in the confusion, Lorian's hand finds mine, squeezing hard enough to ground me through the agony.
His silver eyes burn with all the words he can't make me understand.
When he speaks again, I hear my name, but this time in tones that drop low and protective.
Without understanding, I feel the possession in them The claim.
My Sovereigns see me. It’s the darker side of the fate I wanted, but it’s mine now.
I have to accept it.
I chose this.
I’m humiliated as the bailiff attaches a leash to my collar, and hands it to Rafe.
As we turn to leave, aliens crush in around us, and Rafe scoops me up before I can take even a step. The movement is so smooth I barely register it before I'm cradled against his chest, his soft clothing against my naked skin and the leash draped over his arm.
He carries me from the courtroom like I weigh nothing. Behind us, the gallery buzzes with speculation and scandal. The Sovereign Directors with their new pet. The terrorist turned into a docile pet. That’s the precedent I just set.
I imagine Cal and the Commander of the Igo watching this. And if I could tell them anything now, I would say, ‘I did my best, but it wasn’t enough.’
The transport waiting outside is private, luxurious, a stark contrast to the detention transport that brought me here.
Rafe sets me carefully on a heated seat, the warmth making me whimper involuntarily, then takes off his jacket and puts it around me, and sits beside me while Lorian takes the pilot's seat.
As we lift off, leaving the IGC complex behind, silence fills the cabin. What is there to say? I'm their property now. For seven years, I have no rights, no autonomy, no voice, no legal existence beyond what they grant me.
“Goddesses, Eve, you shouldn't have gotten caught," Lorian says finally, not looking back from the controls.
The accusation stings more than the cold did. "I didn't exactly plan on it," I reply. Then I’m gobsmacked that I can understand him.
Rafe points to the ceiling. “We have translators for every language that ever existed here. But in public, you won’t be able to understand us or other people around you, unless they are from Reima Two.”
"The medical records were sloppy. You should have used a ghost protocol, not your own access codes."
I stare at Lorian. "Are you seriously critiquing my terrorism technique?"
"If you're going to betray us," Rafe adds, "at least do it competently."
The absurdity of it hits me, and a laugh bubbles up, slightly hysterical.
"It would have been insane to think that you wouldn’t have helped Terra Ka. That’s why we hired you to begin with. But if you’re going to betray us, do better next time so you don’t get caught,” Rafe says.
“And that big show about how I wouldn’t understand you after my translator was removed was all a lie. So when you both said you loved me, was that a lie too?” I ask, and Rafe and Lorian look at each other then at me.
“No,” Lorian says. “That was an honest admission.”
I look at Rafe, and he takes my cold hands in his warm ones. “We do love you, Eve, which is why we moved moons to get you sentenced as our property. But this slave situation will be exceedingly difficult for all of us. Make no mistake, it’s a punishment.”
I don’t want to ask but I have to. “What do you mean?”
“We will have to publicly treat you like our pet. We will have to humiliate you,” Rafe says.
“And often,” Lorian adds.
“And you’re worried you can’t do it?” I ask.
A look passes between the brothers, and then Lorian says, “No, we’re worried we’ll like it too much and do things to you that we will never be able to come back from.”
Silence fills the transport.
I am officially on their dark side now, and for a moment I wonder if I should have taken hard labor instead. What will these two alien men do with a human they now own as a pet?