Hey all, thanks for all the comments and ratings on the last chapter. It really makes me happy to see when I'm stuck at work.
Once again I can't thank MadamWhitewalker enough for all the hard work, and for having the patience to deal with my numerous crimes against the English language.
I hope you enjoy chapter five.
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Dan
With a loud hum and the distinct sound of gravel being ripped asunder, Rose's would-be new owner departs. Frowning, I start the slow walk back to the lounge, not entirely sure I want to face my family just yet. I really cannot work it out; why was he so desperate to buy a slave girl who, according to him, was about to lose her mind?
Deliberately slowing my pace, I consider the facts. So, he's my dad's friend, and, if he can be believed, he's worked in the slave trade for years. As if that's something to boast about. Presumably his current, or possibly last, place of employment was the compound where Rose grew up. That makes sense; Rose had been isolated and complete compliance is just her nature. It wouldn't have been hard to spirit her away in the dead of night.
After that, things are a little fuzzy. If his employers knew that he had stolen Rose, why had they not gone to the enforcers? I suppose he could be trying to get her back before his trail was inevitably discovered, but unless he planned to kill her she would tell whoever questioned her exactly where she had been the moment they asked. So perhaps he's acting on behalf of his bosses, but then why would they rely on the same swamp ooze who stole her from them in the first place? No, that doesn't seem very plausible.
I stop off at the kitchen to get a glass of water that I don't really want, still thinking hard. Perhaps he's found out her true worth and wants to re-sell her to a better bidder. But then why offer so many credits? He would be extremely lucky to make even a small profit from that deal. So, personal use perhaps? But then, he had her in his care and sold her for three thousand credits. Now three days later he's happy to spend seventeen thousand more to get her back?
None of it makes sense. Unless the reason he wants Rose isn't her beautiful skin, but what lies underneath. Or more importantly, what doesn't. But that's impossible, just impossible. I've been reading too many crime thrillers.
Unable to avoid my family any longer - at least without raising suspicions - I walk into the living room, asking the question that has been burning a hole in my mind before anyone else can say anything.
"Dad, does your tablet have an ident scanner in it?"
He looks confused for a moment before pulling out the intricately folded collection of transparent glass panes that make up his tablet. Most of these devices don't come with the ability to scan ident chips, since getting someone's name so impersonally from the nano chip in their hand is considered rude. And on top of that, the extra security needed to safeguard against everything from scammers to Vil hackers puts a hefty price tag on top of an already costly gadget. The only people who use tablets with ident scanners are businessmen, like my father, to whom missing a name or not quite catching the company of a client working for him could cost him big.
"Course it does," he shrugs, "Why?"
"Can it read Emily's chip?" I ask.
My mum and sister look at me confusedly as my father shrugs one again.
"Girl!" Without needing further prompting, Emily offers up her hand to her Master, who scans it with a loud ping. "Shows her name and emergency contact info, what exactly is the point of all this?"
"Emily, could you go and fetch Rose and Zack from my room?" She looks to her owner for permission before hurrying away.
"There's no point, I hope, but given that she's 'stolen goods'," I finger quote, "It's worth a try, right?"
"So you can find her rightful owner and return her," my father says, bristling with an anger that my sister and I have learned to fear. "All while I'm out three thousand credits."
"I'm not returning Rose," I say, a little too quickly.
"Power of the pussy," Jezebel observes with a snigger, dangling her legs over the side of the armchair.
"Jezebel Fallow, you watch your language," Mum scolds, but gives me a proud look; the same encouraging little smile she used to use when I managed to score a point in zero-grav zoon ball, back when I was young enough to think I could find common ground with my father.
I intently begin to pace as the room fills with an awkward silence as thick as pea soup. So much so that the creek of the door as Emily returns startles everyone. Suddenly the centre of attention, Emily's cheeks redden, and she hurries to kneel at her Master's feet. Zack, who was trailing behind her, moves at once to Jezebel, leaving a nervous looking Rose to scamper over to me.
"Stand please, Rose," I say before she can damage her knees in her enthusiasm to kneel; honestly, most Lower Vil must have arthritis by the time they're thirty. "We need to scan your right hand. Is that alright?"
My mother tuts but Rose raises her hand obediently. I take a step back, enjoying the contrast of her red hair against the white of the summer dress that she's wearing. With a grunt like an old mule my father rises from the sofa, walking over to us with a frown.
"Hold still," I tell her, "This won't hurt."
Her eyes drop to the ground as my dad steps in front of her. I say nothing as the tablet is held just above her hand, the room falling silent as we wait for the ping.
And wait, and wait.
My father, apparently in a state of disbelief, begins to move the tablet all over her body, from the top of her head to her bare toes. I'm half convinced that he's going to stick the device up her skirt but, thankfully, she's spared that indignantly.
My head spins with the enormity of the situation.
"What does this mean?" my mother asks in a hushed voice.
"I have no idea," I admit.
"It's impossible," my father says, looking at his tablet as if the device had personally offended him. "Perhaps she had it removed!" He roughly grabs Rose's hand, holding it close to his squinting face. Rose whimpers softly, looking up at me with big, confused eyes.
"Let her go!" I slap his hand away and pull Rose into my arms. The sudden affection raises eyebrows around the room. "You see a scar?" I ask, gently stroking Rose's back. Ident chips are extremely difficult to remove once implanted, they bond to a major vain in the hand and leave one hell of a scar, assuming the patient even survives the ministrations of whatever back alley doctor is crazy enough to perform the procedure.
Dad seems to be in a bit of a daze, "I thought I was getting a girl with a bit of an attitude problem or something, not..." He pauses. "Not this..." He shares a worried look with my mother.
"She has to go, Dan," Mum twists her fingers tighter in her lap as she speaks. "I'm sorry, but we can't take the risk. And you heard your father's friend, he'll give you twenty thousand credits to make this problem go away." I've never heard her sound so cold or detached; she won't even look at me.
Rose tenses in my arms, a tiny, barely audible, whimper escaping her. "No," I reply fiercely. "I'm not selling her no matter what."
"And if we all end up in jail because of her?" Mum asks icily.
Jezebel bolts upright. "That could happen?"
"Ident chips are not legally required," I say, trying to sound more confident than I feel. Humans are not forced to have the chips implanted, but I seriously doubt the Lower Vil are given such liberties.
A sentiment my father echoes backs at me with a grimace.
"Anyway, as long as Rose stays inside no one will even think to suspect that there's a problem. Hell, you went shopping for an entire day and never once picked up on the fact that she isn't chipped."
"What about the freak though?" she asks, "He must know right?"
"Yeah?" I shrug, "What can he do about it? He stole Rose, he can't exactly go to the enforcers and the compound must already know about her, there's no way they couldn't."
"That's true," my sister says thoughtfully before leaning back into her seat, her panic evaporating in mere moments. Jezebel is the kind of person who can be furious with you one minute and laughing with you the next; she just doesn't seem to hold onto bad moods for as long as the rest of us. Then again, she makes up for lost time in just how bad her bad moods can get.
Unfortunately, my parents weren't so easily appeased. "I'm sorry, I truly am," Dad says, not meeting my eyes as he grabs Rose by the upper arm. "But your mother's right, it's too dangerous to keep her."
There's a tiny squeak of distress as Rose is yanked away from me, her hands clutching at my shirt for a second before her training kicks in and she dutifully lets go.
"You're condemning her to death!" I snarl angrily as my mother steps between us, placing her palm against my chest.
"They don't kill people at the compounds, son, you of all people should know that," Dad replies in what I imagine he thinks is a soothing tone.
"They don't kill Lower Vil with trackers," I correct him. "They can do whatever they like to Rose and they will. You're not stupid, you know how this ends for her."
"We don't know that for sure," he replies flatly. "Regardless, I'm sure the girl would not want to put you at risk. Would you?" he asks, prompting Rose.
"No Sir," she whimpers, green eyes pleading with mine across the void between us.
