Chapter IX
Pity for a Dime

Though the tremor was slight, it was enough to jolt Cale awake from his hesitant slumber. He shook and tilted his head up. Hazel eyes blinking sleepily, he met the familiar sight of neat rows of seats on either side of him, the pleasant cream glow of the lights along the ceiling reflecting off the walls. In a seat next to him Tek was sitting up attentively. Cale could feel the hum of the shuttle slowing to a stop. He stretched, narrowly avoid hitting Tek. There was a gentle thud as the shuttle parked, and the whining of the engines winding down. A soft, monotonic voice chimed in over an intercom, but no one listened; the shuttle passengers were standing up, stretching, grabbing their parcels and flooding the aisles to get off the shuttle. Tek stood up and Cale did so as well, but it was a long wait until they could make their way into the aisle and off the shuttle.

From the moment they exited the shuttle Cale knew this wasn't a first-rate planet. Which planet it was, Cale wasn't sure. It was somewhere on the outskirts of the Vusstran system, a little desert planet that was largely overlooked. Not many people came to live here, as the living conditions were rather unfavorable, the weather patterns were horrible, and most commodities had to be imported. Standing outside the station, Cale could see far down the road; the planet was underdeveloped outside the heart of the city. In front the skyline was flat, just sand and rocks stretching out into infinity; off to his right he could see a line of hills and mountains that made a belt, and engraved in the ground was a rough dirt road that branched off and led away into the horizon. Not far off he could see the tops of the dunes, which made a network of "walls". Many landowners built their plantations on the other side of them, since they kept out some of the wind. Above the horizon the sky was a tan color mixed with tinges of blue. Cale shifted where he stood on the dirt road as Tek came up alongside him.

It hadn't been Cale's idea to come to this place; it was more of a pit stop. Cale was accompanying Tek on a business trip to one of the planets on the inner portion of the system. The trip looped around the edges, and was long enough they had to switch shuttles. So they had chosen somewhere inconspicuous and out of the way. Cale hoped they wouldn't stay long; the air was thin and smelt like coal, and the sand threw up so much dust that he found himself constantly snuffling and sneezing.

Cale turned to Tek, who was staring blankly out towards the horizon. His eyes were clouded and grayed with cataracts. A recent accident at the salvage station Tau-14, their new home, had left Tek completely blind. The Vusstran had started to adapt to his disability, but Cale still watched him with a careful eye. It had been Cale's idea, at least, to come along and make sure Tek made the trip unharmed.

"You got any idea where we're going to stay?" he asked, hands up, trying to pull down the sleeve of his shirt to cover his nose.

Tek set down the large piece of luggage he had been toting. "Yes, I've booked a room at a hotel in the city, though I dare say our check-in isn't for another two hours at least…"

"So we've got some time then? Great. I'm going to go see if there's anywhere to eat, I'm starved." He hesitated. "Are you gonna be alright by yourself?"

Tek waved off Cale's concern. "I'll be fine, go on, go on. I'll meet you back here in two hours." Cale smiled and strolled off, hands in his pockets. Tek was used to Cale wandering off on his own. He was eighteen now, capable of taking care of himself. Cale wasn't overconfident, but he wasn't worried about anything happening either.Especially not on a junk like this, Cale thought with a wry smile.

He hadn't been walking far when he came upon a large building on the outskirts of the city. Coming closer he saw it was a diner; it was lined with large glass windows that looked out onto the landscape. He grinned. Perfect. Finally away from the greasy slop of the salvage station cafeteria, he was looking forward to a change of taste.

He came up to the door and pulled at the handle; the door was old and the hinges were jammed with sand, but he tugged it just enough to slip past and into the diner. It wasn't busy; there was a row of booths all along the left wall below the windows, with the counter and the kitchen in front along the right. Only a few booths were occupied, and the counter was empty; he couldn't see anyone behind it or in the kitchen. He looked for somewhere to sit. Cale eyed the occupied booths; he had come a long way and was hoping for someone to talk to. The characters he saw did not look inviting, but one booth caught his eye. It had only one occupant, a human boy like himself, about his own age. The young man was sitting with his head tilted down, dark hair falling over his eyes, obscuring his face. He was bent over a small cup, which he was wringing about in his hands. Intrigued, he walked closer.

He slid in the seat opposite, leaning his arms on the table. The boy didn't make any movement to acknowledge his presence. Cale couldn't help feeling his heart sink with pity. His hair was almost black, slick with oil and matted with dirt. The boy's clothing was ragged, torn and frayed at the edges, covered in dark stains. A black cord hung from his neck with a pewter pendent on the end. Cale cleared his throat, trying to get the boy's attention. The boy jerked his head ever so slightly.

"Err… hey…" Cale stuttered, fumbling for something to say. "I hope you don't mind that I sit here…"

The boy shook his head dismissively. "It's alright," he muttered. Though Cale was feeling uncomfortable, the boy was stoic and emotionless.

Cale paused, trying to think of some kind of small talk. "So… do you live here?"

This time he could see a thin smile from under the shadows. "You could sort of say that."

"I'm not from around here. Just a pit stop, you know."

"Yeah, that's what most people come here for."

"Oh yeah? What are they like?"

"I don't know. The same. I don't get out much."

Silence again. The teenager was running his finger along the rim of the cup. Staring at the boy's hands Cale suddenly noticed how scarred they were, calloused and cut in many places. Along his left wrist Cale caught a glimpse of a deep-set string of black numbers. He stared long enough to catch the boy's attention, because he quickly turned his wrist and set his hand on the tabletop.

Cale cleared his throat. "Do you uh, have family here or anything?"

The boy looked up a bit, but not enough for Cale to see his eyes. "No. They're dead."

Great going there, Cale. "I'm sorry, I didn't know…"

"Yeah, well, most people don't. But usually they don't ask."

"Well, do you live alone?"

"Let me set this straight for you," the boy said between clenched teeth. "I live on one of the farms off by the dunes. I live with a few others in a shack behind the fields." Now he was talking slower, as if to make sure Cale got what he was saying. "I have no family but the others and my master. Happy now?"

Cale shifted uncomfortably. "Look, I'm sorry… I just –"

He sighed and looked up into Cale's eyes, and Cale was taken aback by how black and lifeless that gaze was. "You just thought it best to sort of ignore it, didn't you? Well that's really touching, but I don't need your pity," he spat. Standing up, he dug into his pocket and tossed a small coin on the counter. Without another glance at Cale, he stormed off.

Cale slumped down in the booth and sighed. "Well, that went well," he mumbled. Something about the boy bothered him. The way he spoke, those black eyes… they seemed so familiar, somewhere beyond the calloused layers of suffering and cynicism. It was a shadowy figure out of a distant memory. He had a sudden recollection of a moment long ago in time, sitting outside a shop in the sunrise, Tek standing over him… I am not my father. I do not abandon my family…

Cale jerked in his seat, eyes wide. He looked over his shoulder and saw the boy standing outside still, hands in his pockets, kicking the dirt. Cale stumbled out of the booth, crossed the diner and opened the door, stepping outside. The boy looked up, frowned, and began to storm off. "Hey!" Cale called. He jogged after him. "Just wait a moment, will you?"

"The hell's wrong with you? Leave me alone!" the boy shouted over his shoulder and quickened his pace. Cale ran after him. Cale caught the boy by the arm and he reeled around, gritting his teeth in a snarl, eyes flashing. "Let go of me," he hissed, trying to pry Cale's fingers off. Their eyes met, Cale's glittering green with curiosity and the boy's narrow and jet-black. There was a long pause as the two stood, the boy panting as his frustration ebbed. Cale's eyes flickered back and forth as he studied the boy's face.

"Tai?"

The expression on the boy's face slackened. The name sunk in and anger faded to confusion and disbelief. Cale's grip on his shoulder loosened and he backed away, still staring at Cale's face. He laughed and shook his head. "Oh my god…" Taylor muttered under his breath with a smile, still chuckling. He turned away and started to walk off again, leaving Cale stunned.

"Tai! Wait!"

Taylor stopped and turned back around. "Tai is dead!" he shouted. "Go home!" He turned away.

Cale felt torn. He wasn't the same. Cale ran up to Taylor again and fell into step. Taylor didn't look at him; he was looking at the ground, still grinning at the irony. "It's been four years. Where have you been?"

Cale looked down at his feet with a sigh. "I tried to find you, Tai… believe me I did…"

"Well, what stopped you?"

"I… we found the station they took you to… but when we got there, they told me you had already been... you know... I guess I lost faith… it was as if you had died, and I had to move on…"

Taylor felt his contempt give way to other emotions and memories. "I did die, in a way… you did, too..."

Cale frowned. "Well, we're together now."

Taylor stopped, and Cale did as well. Cale sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "God it's been a long time… what's- I mean, how are you?"

Taylor began to walk again; they were walking along the road leading to the dunes and canyons. "How do you think I am, Cale? Take a guess; I'll give you a hint. I've been a slave on a remote desert planet for four years, constantly beaten by an alcoholic bastard who raped my girlfriend and left her to die. And all that time I believed you abandoned me, that you were dead, just like everyone else. Now how do you think I am?"

"Guess I deserved that," Cale muttered. "Okay, so I've missed a lot. But really, what's happened, since that day?"

Taylor sighed. He felt a mixture of different conflicting emotions, of joy and anger; the sudden rush of feeling was seditious to the nature he'd set the past few years, and it terrified him. Nevertheless he paused to reflect on Cale's question, and he began to recount everything that had happened since the day he stepped out of the little house on Vusstra alone. He went slowly at first as he accounted his kidnapping, the darkness in the cargo hold, the slave cages, Steele… then he began to go faster and faster, until the events seemed to be just a blinding whirl of anguish and disillusionment. He went on like this until he was tired of it, and now they had walked miles away from the little diner; the sun had sunk out of the sky, afternoon giving way to evening. The two stopped walking. Cale stood staring into space trying to take in what Taylor had said, but Taylor was staring off in front of him with an expression mixed with horror and resignation.

They were standing at the foot of a long tilled field that stretched out in front of them; behind the fields the tops of a series of shacks and buildings could barely be seen in the evening glow. In the middle of the field was a tall, spindly structure, a grotesque imitation of a windmill. There was a long line of high dunes all along the far sides of the fields, and to the left the mountains loomed tall. Cale snapped out of his trance and looked around. In the distance the yellow blush of lights inside the buildings could be seen. Taylor cursed under his breath; it was late, too late. "Cale, I have to go…"

Cale shrugged. "Well then, I'll come with you-"

"No," Taylor snapped. Then lower, "No, you can't let him see you… too much could go wrong, I'm in enough trouble as it is…"

Cale hesitated, torn. "Alright, I'll leave then… Tek's waiting for me…"

Something in Taylor's eyes flashed. "Tek's here too?"

"Of course, did you think I came alone?"

Taylor paused as if to answer when the sound of a loud slam could be heard far off across the fields. Hesitating, Taylor stepped backwards, grappling to stay or go… and then he turned and took off as fast as he could across the dusty fields, leaving Cale behind.

Cale stood for a moment, watching Taylor until he could no longer discern his form in the shadows of the evening. He knew he should go and not risk anything for his friend, but something tugged at him… he began to follow Taylor's path across the fields. It was a long jog, but soon Cale found himself standing in front of a little shack, crudely put together of wooden planks. The roof slanted forward, and there was only one large window in the front next to a rickety door. Inside a pale yellow light shone, streaming out of the window onto the sandy ground outside. He had seen Taylor disappear into this shack, and could hear his voice speaking inside; another voice was answering him, but he couldn't hear what either were saying. He fell down on his knees and crawled beneath the windowsill, trying to hide in the shadows.

Inside it was cramped; most of the space was taken up with two bunk beds on either side. The only empty wall was next to the door, which was covered with shelves, filled with an assortment of candles and supplies.

From the moment Taylor came in the shack, Dover was all over him. "Taylor! Thank God, where have you been?"

The tall young man standing in front of Taylor was only about two years older than himself. He had a very rogue look, with long brown hair swept behind his ears. When Taylor had been brought here four years ago, Dover had already been a slave for many years, and it was Dover who taught Taylor how to survive. Though Dover had been resentful of Taylor and sought out every opportunity to put him down, the boy began to grow on him over the years. Now the only ones left, they were especially close.

"Nowhere, I was just at the diner, that's all…"

"That's it? What took you so long?"

"I'll tell you about it later, Dover…"

"Master's going to have your ass when he realizes you left."

"He doesn't need to know."

"Well you can count on him finding out," Dover snorted, turning his back on Taylor and collapsing onto one of the bottom bunks. Taylor stood scowling before dropping onto the opposite bunk by the window. There was an uneasy silence as Taylor sat on the edge of the bunk with his head in his hands, half expecting footsteps to come up the gravel path at any moment. But they didn't come, and he started to relax, curling up in a ball on his side, facing the window.

He didn't hear the footsteps until they were crashing up to the little shack. There was a squelching slam as the rust-hinged door was thrown open, and before Taylor could even start to react he was seized by the arm and thrust at the floor.

A shockwave of pain rippled through his body as he struck back first. Flinching, he looked up at the figure towering over him.

The man above him wore a snarl of heavy loathing. Taylor felt his heart go cold. Though in reality the older man was a bit shorter than Tai and not nearly as well built as Dover, in his blood-thirst he looked as if he filled the room. His eyes, so narrow they were almost slits, were shot with red.

"Where did you go, Boy?" He called none of his slaves by their names; he merely referred to them as "Boy" or "You"... or typically, something fouler.

Tai lay shivering on the floor, trying to regain some composure. "Master, I'm not a boy anymore, I'm 18-"

"I don't care how old you are, damn you!" The man shouted. Dover was silent on his bunk, frowning. From the bunk above Taylor the curious round face of a three-year-old boy peered over the rail, eyes sleepy. "Now, answer me!"

Taylor attempted to pull himself up off the dirt floor, clutching the rail of the bunk for balance. He looked at the ground and didn't make eye contact, flinching. "I was just down the road, sir… I must have lost track of the time."

"Down the road?" The man repeated in disbelief. "Didn't I tell you," he growled, "that you were never allowed to leave again?"

Taylor didn't answer. He did, of course, remember his master had said that… he still had the scars to prove it, in fact. He hadn't planned on coming home late; he was going to sneak down and back before anyone had a chance to notice. But then he met Cale…

Without warning the man swung his hand and connected with the side of Taylor's face; Taylor dropped against the bunk, clutching his cheek. The man stood with his fists clenched, staring down his nose at Taylor, lips curled. Dover was frozen on the opposite bunk.

Taylor glanced up skeptically and made to stand back up again, but the man kicked Taylor hard in the shin and he buckled, slamming his head against the bunk. He collapsed on the floor and hissed with pain, gripping his arm where it struck the rail, but didn't attempt to stand up again. His cheeks burned red and his head hung down, his thoughts concentrated only on ignoring the pain. The man forced Taylor's head up with the toe of his shoe.

"Don't. Ever. Disobey me. Again," he bit out, withdrawing his foot, the stench of alcohol thick on his breath. Taylor clenched his eyes shut and flinched just before the man swung the same foot against his side. The swipe tore the fabric of his shirt and left a long gash, and Taylor let out a small, bitten-off cry. The man wasn't satisfied, and he kicked again, and again, slamming Taylor with his fists, until Taylor was blind with pain, screaming his apologies, the salt of his tears stinging in open wounds.

The master paused, Taylor still sobbing. In the bunk above came the uncontrollable screaming of the young boy, now audible. Dover had watched in horror, rooted to the spot. When his master shifted as if to swing again Dover could not contain himself any longer. "STOP IT! YOU'LL KILL HIM!"

The man rounded on Dover, who didn't flinch or blink, merely shook with loathing for the man and fear for Taylor's sake. "He's mine and I will do whatever the hell I want with 'im!" he snapped. He turned his head to regard Taylor cringing on the floor. "He's always been worthless, anyway, why shouldn't I?"

"Because you need him," Dover said simply. "And you paid for him, as you said. We all know how much your money means to you." He wished to add something more vulgar to that, but caught himself.

The shack fell quiet, broken only by Taylor's hoarse breathing and the little boy's sobs. Finally, the man snorted and turned his back on them all and strode from the room, wrenching the door open and slamming it behind him.

They all waited for a pause but he didn't return. After he had been gone at least a few minutes, Dover slid from the bunk to kneel down next to Taylor, who was retching blood. The dirt and dust from the floor was intermingling with his wounds. Dover snatched a rag off the shelf and pressed it against Taylor's side. Dover tried the best he could to get the dirt out of the wounds, praying the beating wasn't so grave this time that Taylor was bleeding internally. Taylor shivered and coughed, paralyzed with shock. By now the child had crawled to the edge of the top bunk again and was peering down at them again, his rosy cheeks tear-stained. Dover looked up to return his gaze.

"Help me out, will you? We've got to get the bleeding to stop."

The boy's one blue and one green eye both widened and he scrambled off the edge and climbed to the floor. He came up beside Dover and stood staring at Taylor. Eyes tearing, the little boy threw his arms around Taylor. "I don' want Tay-ler to die, Dover."

"I don't either. Now will you let go and help me, Cody? You're hurting him."

Outside beneath the windowsill, Cale sat still, clutching the gravel in his hands. He had barely resisted the urge to trip that beast they called "Master" as he came storming out of the shack and stumbled off cursing into the night. He had sat there and listened to the whole thing, even though his heart had been screaming at him to intervene, while his mind cried for him to stay hidden. Now that it was over he was left brewing with his thoughts. Suddenly the reality of everything Taylor had told him came slamming home. What astounded him most was that Taylor's master was human. Certainly he never would have imagined something so atrocious… and the way that man treated them, it made him sick to think about. There's solidarity for you, Tek.

The more he sat beneath the windowsill running all this through his mind, the more his anger built, until he came to a resolution. If he left Taylor here much longer, he'd die. He could think of no other way. He slid out from under the windowsill, careful not to come in view of the window, and scrambled to his feet. This planet had no moon, only the thin light of the stars to brighten the twilight sky. Cale took one last look at the peaceful little shack and plunged into the fields, running back towards the road, the starlight the only guide to carry him.