Buck opened his eyes, then squeezed them shut again. The lights in this century still looked strange to them. Cautiously, he cracked them open once more and pushed himself up on one elbow to survey his current location.
Yes, he was waking up in another of those small rooms, the only difference being that this one didn't contain Wilma. He was completely alone.
He finished sitting up and ran one hand across his forehead. The headache he'd had all day today, assuming that this was still the same horrible day, had kicked back up to King Kong level. It had been starting to retreat to just annoying, but it obviously didn't think much of being shot with a stun gun. The rest of his body joined it in that opinion. He ran his hand back again to the swelling where he had been stuck. Yes, still there. At least on this awakening, he remembered things from today up until he had been shot out in the woods. The big gap, the one between freezing on Ranger and waking up with Wilma bending over him, remained.
Buck hauled himself to his feet and started walking laps of his prison, trying to shake off the feeling that he had a beehive inside him. If this was what being shot on stun did, he wouldn't wish it on many people.
The Mangolians were among that small population. He'd gladly shoot any of them, first chance he got. If nothing else, he was completely convinced by now from events that Wilma had told him the truth and that she alone was on his side at the moment. This planet was full of enemies.
Wilma. He had to find her. They had to get out of here. The little room offered no answers or strategies, however.
He wondered what time it was and how long he had been out. He seemed to have some type of watch buckled around his left wrist, but he had no idea how to read the flashing lights. The communicator and weapons were gone, of course. The food discs had been left to him, and he took an experimental nibble of one, then shoved it back into his pocket in disgust. It tasted like scientifically created food that had been assembled in a lab rather than grown.
He tried pushing into the black void in his memory, but he gained nothing. Just for a moment, back there on the shuttle, he had had a fragment of memory, but nothing else seemed inclined to join it. He sighed.
The door opened, and Buck turned. A Mangolian entered, accompanied by four armed androids. Buck ignored the guards and studied the man himself. He recognized him, not the individual but the type. This was a prime specimen of leader without a conscience. The man was dangerous.
"Ah, Captain Rogers, I'm glad to see you have woken up with no ill effects."
The man seemed to expect Buck to know him. Buck didn't correct that assumption. "Where is Wilma?" he demanded.
"Oh, she's unharmed. I was just talking to her and making my apologies. The two of you are quite valuable to us; we have no desire to hurt you. But it's clearly too dangerous to leave you together. Don't bother making up some story like she did, trying to tell me that one of you was hurt back when we first seized you. Both of you are the picture of health. Quite satisfactory, actually." He surveyed Buck like he might have picked out a steak in the meat department at the grocery store.
"If you think we're going to cooperate with you . . ." Buck started.
The man interrupted him. "Yes, yes, I know. I heard your speech already from Colonel Deering. Things would be so much simpler if you would accept the fact that you are outnumbered." He looked at his wrist. "I must leave you. I have many duties, and you have already complicated this day. Get some rest, Captain, and I hope you have a comfortable night. Tomorrow, we will proceed with our plan."
"What plan?" Buck demanded. "And if you think this" - he waved a hand at the room - "is a spot to give me a comfortable night, you're mistaken. You don't seem at all concerned with our comfort so far."
The man considered. "You do have a point. I guess it would do no harm to move you and the Colonel from a holding room into more comfortable quarters. We do want you in peak condition tomorrow for the auction."
"Auction?" Buck sputtered. "Now wait a minute! You can't just sell us like cattle."
The man looked momentarily confused. "What are cattle? Well, it doesn't matter." He turned to the androids. "Move him to room 3A. Be very careful to keep him covered at all times. Then return to my office, and I will give you instructions for moving Colonel Deering. Good night, Captain." He turned and left.
One of the androids gestured with his weapon. "You will move," he said in a flat mechanical voice.
"What if I don't?" Buck asked.
"We will shoot you and move you ourselves," the android replied, still with no expression at all in his words.
Buck sighed. His nerves were still humming already. Reluctantly, he accepted the fact that this wasn't the time to stage a revolt. He'd have to watch for a better opportunity. He moved out.
Room 3A was an improvement. It was a small apartment with two rooms and a bed. He paced around it as soon as he was alone, inspecting it for possibilities. None came to mind. No windows, no alcoves, no potential weapons. Finally, after pacing circles in it for more than an hour (he guessed), he took another few bites of a food disc and washed it down with a bottle of water. They had water on a small table. No mangolams. Probably, they had concluded that humans preferred the food discs since they were carrying them.
Buck remembered Wilma saying he disliked them. Wilma. Where was she, and what was happening to her? Even aside from escape plotting, he wished she were here just for company. She at least knew him.
He had no intentions of sleeping, but he finally lay down on the bed just to think horizontally. His legs still felt shaky. He wasn't even aware of moving from thinking into a deep sleep.
When he opened his eyes, he felt that several hours had passed, though the flashing lights on his wrist still gave him no clue. He sat up and took stock of the situation. He felt quite a bit better, actually. The sound sleep had done him good. The jangled nerves from the stun gun had vanished, and his headache from yesterday was also gone. Light pressure against the knot on his head was still painful, but as long as he left it alone, he felt all right.
Unfortunately, his memory hadn't returned. He pushed against the impersonal blackness, trying to penetrate it.
The door of the room opened, and the leader stepped in, accompanied by guards. "Well, Captain, I'm glad you had such a restful night. I can't say the same for Colonel Deering, but she did get some sleep." He interpreted Buck's expression. "Oh, yes, these rooms are monitored. We should have put you in a monitored room first thing yesterday. Now, let's get moving." The androids moved in meaningfully.
Buck sighed and stepped out into the hall. He fiercely paid attention, trying to memorize the route and layout as he was led through several other sections. This complex was huge. Finally, he was turned into a large auditorium. It was full of people, and there was a rustle of excitement as he entered. The androids guided Buck to a circle in the front of the room.
"Now, this one is a special treat," the leader said. "Even more so than the first one. This human is actually more than 500 years old, dating him from prior to their holocaust. He was frozen at that time and only recently revived. Thus, the genes are an even purer form, without modification due to the changes in environment. Pick up your keypads, please."
Keypads? Buck noticed that indeed, every member of the audience had keypads. There was no sound besides that of buttons being pushed. Somehow, this impersonal type of auction seemed even more offensive than a usual one with bids being called out.
Bids. Another fragment of memory swam up abruptly from that black hole in his mind. He could remember standing in a room in front of an audience of women and being sold like this. When? And what had happened then?
The leader smiled. "The highest bid has been arrived at. Thank you, and I wish you well in your studies. Captain Rogers will be taken to a holding room to be claimed."
Once again, Buck was led out into those halls. It was a short trip this time, and he was placed in another small, impersonal room and left alone. He paced circles, trying unsuccessfully to pull out any other memories and also wondering what would happen now. That auction, with not a word spoken besides the voice of the leader, had been disturbing. What was wrong with these people? Did any of them have a conscience? And who had bought Wilma, who apparently had already had her turn on the block? And where was she?
The door to the room opened while Buck was at the far end, and he whirled around. Two Mangolians, a man and a woman, entered. They were unaccompanied by androids. Buck sized up the situation and steeled himself for action. This could be his chance. Two to one were the best odds he'd seen so far on this planet.
Before he could charge, the man spoke first. "I am Karian, and this is my wife, Selin. We apologize for our people."
