Beta-reading was done by kokodoru!
Warnings still apply, naturally.
When Luka opened her eyes the following morning, she counted that it was day three on-planet. The cycle was almost over. Soon, she could start selling the spices. Soon, she could empty her ship, get rich, and get out. Soon, she could get rid of Miku...
The woman sighed, the breath sending another bolt of pain down her spine. She stifled a groan, that effort alone awakening a splitting headache.
"Good morning."
She had to admit, that was a smooth voice. Luka didn't know how Miku had chosen it, but it cut through the pained fog of her mind like a hot knife through butter.
Didn't help the pain itself, though.
"Morning," she forced through her teeth.
"You are in pain," Ruko stated. The metallic voice felt like a clapper inside the bell that was her mind. "I advise medication."
"Miku, in my jacket," Luka started, pointing vaguely in the direction of the jacket she had been wearing the previous night. "Bottle..."
The robot didn't obey right away, staring for a moment before eventually navigating around the boxes to fetch her jacket. As she rifled through the pockets, she also found the packet of cigs.
Luka felt her heart leap at the sight of the box. A swirl of longing settled in her gut, urging her to sit up despite the pain.
"Oh fuck yes, give me those, too."
"I thought you had no money left," Miku said, pulling out the spare change from another pocket.
"I didn't. Give me."
The robot looked at the coins for a moment before making the trek back to her bed. Unprompted, she fetched her some water on the way back. She watched as Luka swallowed a painkiller, then pulled a cig from the box.
"I have a blowtorch somewhere," Luka groaned, bringing the stick to her lips.
"What is that?"
"A cig. A laced one."
"Where did you find it?"
"At the market. Find me my blowtorch, will you?"
Miku stared, probably confused at the sight of the drug. Right before the woman snapped at the robot out of sheer impatience, she started moving back towards the workbench, carefully reading all the labels on the drawers before finding and retrieving the blowtorch.
By the time Luka had it in her hands, she was already shaking from anticipation. The flame of the blowtorch was far too big to light a cig, but it did the job quite nicely.
She inhaled the smoke and held it until she felt the tension seep out of her system. The headache melted like snow in the sun. Her heart rate plummeted.
"Oh yeah," she sighed, exhaling a plume into the ship.
"Engaging air purifiers," Ruko droned.
"What is it laced with?"
Luka glanced at the robot. "I don't know. Anxiety and pain relief stuff. Probably really addicting, to be honest."
Miku frowned. "Will you be buying more?"
"Nah. I've had my share of addictions at the beginning of my career, and let me tell you, it's impossible to do a good job keeping an ear out and getting in and out of places quick if your brain is always yelling at you to get another hit." She inhaled another lungful, then sighed again. "I'll finish this packet now that I have it. But I won't be picking up another."
The robot nodded, probably accepting the reply more than understanding it. Luka didn't care, laying back down and stretching out, blowing big clouds of smoke into the ship. Miku didn't breathe, so she didn't care. Ruko was busy cleaning it all out. As far as the scavenger was concerned, it was just her and her relief.
She needed the day to herself. Just a day smoking cigs, lying around, flitting in and out of consciousness, letting her chest heal a bit more before she got to work. Just a day to forget the night.
"Will we be going on a walk today?"
"Nope," Luka snapped, but the cig was already kicking in full force, and her voice lacked any kind of bite. She felt so nice and far away.
"Ah." The robot returned, resigned, to her corner of the ship. "I had hoped to go out today."
"Tough luck. I am taking today off," Luka drawled.
"You were busy last night?"
The scavenger didn't reply, practiced making rings out of the smoke, failed, gave up, smoked again.
"I had hoped to see some more things," Miku confessed. "I was curious."
Again, the woman remained mute.
"I noticed that there are no children here."
Luka felt her exhale catch in her throat. She coughed, already anticipating the dose of pain in her chest, but the painkiller was strong and the cig made even her coughs lazy and half-hearted.
"There are no kids here," she grumbled around the cig.
"Oh."
Luka glanced at her, trying to decipher her expression. "Please don't tell me you're gonna ask me where they come from."
"No, I know all there is to know about human sexuality," Miku stated. "I simply found it odd that, in a place where there are so many people, that there are no children."
Luka sighed again, took another drag.
"I was hoping to see one."
"Why?"
"I only have the memory of a single child," Miku muttered, her voice surprisingly thin.
"So, you saw one. Why do you need to see another?"
"The one I saw died," the robot stated. "I only saw him alive for all of two or three seconds. And then he was dead."
Luka glanced at her again. "What happened to him?"
Miku kept her eyes riveted on the floor. Her fingers flexed a bit.
If the cig hadn't already taken a hold of her brain, Luka would have probably frozen in fear. Instead, she only processed the information with chilling neutrality.
"I had hoped to see a living child. A happy one," Miku admitted. She sounded so small.
"If you see a kid here," Luka started, finishing the cig, pressing the burning end to the tip of a new one. "Then odds are they wish they were dead. You report child sightings for that reason."
The robot nodded. "Right. This is no place to start a family, then."
"Absolutely not." The woman sighed. All she wanted was sleep.
"Do you ever think you would want a family?"
Luka turned to look her right in the eye for a handful of seconds, before turning away from her, onto her bad side: it didn't even hurt.
"Luka?"
"I don't want to talk right now."
"What did you do last night?"
"..."
"Where did you get that money?"
"Let me fucking sleep."
After her day off, smoking and sleeping through the day and night, the rotation was complete and Luka could finally start contacting the highest bidders for the spice. Some replied quickly, others less so, which suggested that they were probably still in faraway stretches of the universe. But Luka was impatient: she needed one sale, just one, to complete her most urgent shopping. While she could, at that point, replace her bandages with almost no pain at all, she didn't have any clean bandages left. There was also the question of provisions, replacing her air filters, getting more space suit thread, officially buying the tablet, and so on, all on top of just getting a decent dinner. The cash reward for handing in the slaver would cover a small portion of that, but she wanted to hang on to it for emergency cases; it was literally all she had left.
Luckily, most of the highest bidders for the spice were eager and easy to communicate with. She exchanged dozens of messages throughout the day, proposing meeting times, defending her use of a 'proxy', and so on. Some deals fell through, most didn't. Interestingly, most only wanted one crate of the spice at a time. Some even requested units as small as a pinch. Luka preferred to get rid of the whole batch in a single go, but apparently such large volumes of stolen goods were too much to hide for most. Somewhat lucky, too; she had no idea how she would simultaneously move so many crates.
Fortunately, the price for a single crate of spice would set her for weeks, if not months.
And, according to the requests on her page, so would the sale of the robot. After her numerous performances, her page was flooded with requests. Luka kept an eye out for 'black rose's, but that particular demand looked to be the only one of its kind. Still, she only skimmed requests for her, looking at the highest bids with a particularly nasty squint. She didn't care what exactly happened to Miku, but she cared less for the well-being of slavers. The woman was also looking for those who were friends with the man they had met at the market, but if he was right, then she needed to wait for a bit longer than a single rotation to hear from them. He seemed like a decent guy who knew his stuff, so it would most likely be worth the wait. Still, it was clear that the robot had a huge variety of things to offer, from historical value to technical marvel to artistic prowess, so competition was fierce, and the price kept rising no matter what.
First things first, though: the spice had to go.
"Hey, Miku."
The robot glanced at her, somewhat wary. "Yes?"
"I'm going to sell the first box of spice tonight," Luka started, typing away on her tablet. "We need to get the box to the meeting point."
"Ah. You require my help."
"Yeah. I can't exactly carry it on my own," the woman said. "So we'll be going on a little trip tonight."
"Wonderful. I look forward to it."
"It's not gonna be a walk for fun," she warned. "We're making the sale and going home. The city can be real dangerous at night."
Miku's small smile disappeared. "Very well."
"I only need your help to get the box there, anyway. You can make it back to the ship on your own?"
"I suppose."
"Great. And make sure to put on one of my jackets. You'll need to be invisible: can't have people approaching you for a sale."
"I will."
That evening, Miku donned her jacket, her hair tied up in a braid so it would be less obvious. After Luka made sure they both didn't show even the slightest sign of wanting to do impromptu business, they covered the crate in a leftover tarp. With all that done, Luka opened the door, ready to head out.
"You can carry it?"
"Without a problem," Miku said, demonstrating. She was tiny, and the crate weighed a ton, but she lifted and dropped it down without any issue.
Luka nodded, took out one of the last cigs from the box. "Excellent."
The robot watched her make a last detour to her workbench to light it with the blowtorch. She opened her mouth to ask, but changed her mind, closing it and keeping her eyes on the crate instead.
Luka rolled her eyes. She didn't need a robot judging her. Without another word, she stepped out of the ship, the robot right behind her.
"Ok, stick close to me," Luka whispered once they put the docks behind them. "It's dark, but we're not exactly super subtle. If you see anyone making a beeline for us, let me know."
"Understood."
"Try to keep an eye out and remember where you see enforcers. At night, they multiply. There's always a few around."
Miku nodded. "It's still so blue everywhere."
"Always."
They walked the night streets for almost an hour, Luka lighting her last cig halfway through. She hoped the calming effect would last throughout the night: while the amnesiac side-effects were tangible, she couldn't quite erase the encounter with the slaver from her mind. She didn't need more of such encounters right then. She didn't need dangerous, crazy types. She just wanted to sell the spice and get home, wherever that might be.
They dove into the same labyrinth, which was enough to make the hair at the back of Luka's neck stand on end. Enforcers could be anywhere, trapping criminals. Criminals could be around any corner, making deals of their own.
"How well do you hear?" she whispered to the robot.
"Very well."
"If you hear that we're about to walk into other people, turn around and go back the way we came. I'll follow."
The robot frowned. "Is it dangerous here?"
"More than I can say."
"Why are we here, then?"
"Fastest route to our meeting point."
Miku didn't waver, following behind Luka without slowing her step. Eventually, they emerged from the labyrinth, finding wider roads lined by smaller buildings. If there was anything close to a residential area on this planet, this was it. The shop keepers that couldn't find living space above their own shop, hotel patrons, and others who came to the hub and stayed for extended periods all found their beds in this area. The real estate was abysmal, the prices high, but the area was quiet and the alleyways were secluded.
"We're almost there," she whispered.
"Very well." After a moment, Miku asked, "I see red in the distance."
"Yeah. Red light district is over there."
"...Is this where you were, two nights ago?"
Luka glanced at her from over her shoulder, only slowing down her pace a bit. "What, here?"
"Yes."
"Why do you care?"
"You had left so quickly. I was curious."
"Well stop asking. It doesn't matter."
"Are you ashamed?"
"No. What I'm up to in my free time is not interesting and it's none of your business. Now let's get going, we've got places to be."
Miku kept her head down for the remainder of the walk.
"Alright, we're at the meeting point," Luka said, scanning the alleyway. There was an exit behind her, and another just around the corner, where her contact would emerge from. "Just drop it here."
Miku obliged, setting the crate down with a dull thud.
"Excellent. The buyer will be here any minute."
"You will be safe?"
"I'll be fine."
Miku hesitated but nodded. "Alright."
"Get going, before someone sees you." When Miku didn't take a step, Luka seethed, "What are you waiting for? Get out of here!"
At that, the robot turned on her heel and disappeared down the alleyways. The woman rolled her eyes and brought her comms microphone to her mouth, whispering to Ruko, "Let me know if she's not back at the ship within the next 90 minutes."
Ruko replied without delay, "Understood."
The buyer arrived just as Luka stuffed the microphone back into her pocket. She was delighted at the sight of the crate, lifting the tarp to read the sticker carefully. Luka even opened the box for her so she could see that there was no trickery. The woman handed over a briefcase filled with cash, her two helpers picking up the crate as she did so.
After polite farewells, they parted ways.
Luka had never been so rich. The calming effect of the cig still gripped her heart, but her mind couldn't help but race. She returned to the ship positively giddy, jogging the last leg of the distance, almost forgetting to check if Miku was there already.
"I'm glad you made it back safe," the robot said from her corner.
"Yeah, yeah, so am I," Luka muttered, placing the briefcase on a crate and opening it. She laughed as the reality of the exchange finally sank in. "Look at all this fucking money! Where am I even going to hide it...?"
Miku frowned, yet craned her neck. "That does look like a lot of money."
"You bet it is," Luka said, giggling to herself in excitement. "I've waited so long for this day. I can finally retire, holy shit!"
"Where will you hide it, though?"
Luka thought about it for a second. "Everywhere. I can't stuff it all in the same place, that would be stupid."
"Are we going to do this every night?"
"Oh yeah. Maybe even two or three a night, more if scheduling permits. Got lots and lots of interested customers."
"Very well. You should be rid of your spice pretty quickly, then."
"How many boxes do we have exactly?"
"We had fourteen total."
"If we can try for three boxes per night, then maybe a little over four more days here? Man, I'm so close to being free."
"Free from what?"
Luka laughed. "Everything! The law, what everybody else wants and expects. I can buy privacy and isolation and everything I could ever desire and I never have to think about anything or anyone ever again. Fuck, finally!"
Miku opened her mouth, closed it again, and watched without a word as Luka hid the cash. It was stuffed anywhere she found enough room for a stack: stuck to the undersides of drawers, between some shirts, in the cushions of her chair, within an empty cavity in her dashboard.
The scavenger almost regretted smoking the last cig because by the time she finally went to sleep, her adrenaline and excitement were at an all-time high and she could barely calm herself.
The next day, Luka went out and did all the shopping required, getting good food, settling her debt for the tablet, even getting all the thread she needed to finish repairs on her space suit, with more than enough money left to spare. The more Luka spent, the more she could start to comprehend exactly how much money the spice was worth. It was insane. She even got herself a few upgrades: better tools and a larger first aid kit, mostly. She couldn't spend it all at once, though. The money for a single crate was a borderline suspicious amount, even at the Sapphire Shores.
The following night, they did the same, but twice. Anonymized, Miku carried the box to the meeting point, Luka made the transaction, returned to the ship shortly after Miku did, her hands filled with cash. She dropped off the bag of money, and they went to the second meeting point.
Each meeting point was different. Some were Luka's choice, others were a buyer's suggestion. Every exchange went smoothly: nobody tried to haggle at the last minute, Miku brought the boxes without complaint, there were no ambushes or surprises in the night.
All told, it was going seamlessly. Luka settled in bed, happy that the 20-hour night was still young, plenty of time to sleep until dawn and get all the rest she needed to spend all day messaging and preparing for her future.
"Ah, I'm so rich," she whispered. "I'm on top of a fortune."
She was, literally. A few stacks had been stuffed into the mattress of her bed. She could feel the lumps, and her back would probably be angry at her for it, but feeling them there warmed her heart in a way no cig could. And really, it was good she had run out of the things. Even if the night still made her nervous, with each uneventful deal her anxiety lessened and she could now experience the high of making literal heaps of money in the rawest form. It was so fierce, delicious, delectable, she would never need a cig or any drug again. She barely even needed painkillers at that point, content with the far-away pain of her wound. The fresh bandages she had purchased and applied still felt so wonderfully clean, it was almost like a painkiller on its own.
"Eleven boxes left," Miku muttered. "Will there be three deals tomorrow night?"
"Four if I can help it. The quicker I move all these, the better," the woman sighed. She was ready to sleep, but her mood was too good to be soured so quickly by unwanted conversation. "'Cause the quicker they're gone, the earlier I can get rid of you, get far away from civilization, and finally live life as I see fit."
"...Right." After a brief silence during which Luka almost found sleep, she asked, "Are there any more interested buyers for me?"
"I don't know. Haven't looked at your page in a while. Been too busy messaging buyers of the spice."
"Ah. I hope there will be a good buyer out there."
"Oh trust me, there will. Last time I checked, there were almost too many."
She could almost hear the robot's mood pick up from the floor. "Oh! Did many of them mention my music?"
After a heavy sigh, her own mood plummeting, she growled, "Fuck if I know. I don't care about that. Your price tag is looking pretty good though."
"...Will you look when you have time?"
"I don't give a fuck, so no. Now let me sleep."
"But—"
"I'm not listening."
Miku didn't say another word, letting the woman finally relax, breathe and drift off to sleep.
Wrapped in clean cloth, lying on top of a fortune, Luka fell asleep before she even knew it. She was already dreaming of her self-made paradise on a faraway planet, right by the sea, where the water was crystal-clear and there was nobody around to bother her. Life would be easy, luxurious, where she would get up and go to sleep when she saw fit, she ate what she wanted, did what amused her. She wouldn't have to listen to others, try to juggle a thousand different opinions, cater to anybody else's whims or desires. It would just be her, her happiness, her dreams, and her agony.
Pure, bleeding, jagged agony.
"Fuck!"
She writhed, the dream torn from her mind, tried to sit up only to find a hand on each of her shoulders, keeping her down.
Blinking away the sleep, struggling to swallow the tears of pain, Luka needed all of a second to recognize Miku hovering above her, her eyes blue disks cutting through the night.
"What the fuck are you—"
Miku pinned her good hand down above her head, her other hand once again pressing down on the wound on Luka's torso. When the scavenger tried to fight her grip, kicking at the robot, Miku pushed again, harder.
"Fuck! Get her off!" she yelled, barely able to speak through her own wailing.
The ship's AI blinked to life, the lights turning on with a hum and hiss.
Before anything more could happen though, Miku said, "Ruko, I strongly advise doing nothing."
"Miku—"
"If you wish for Luka to ever be able to rise out of bed again, you will re-enter standby mode and cease listening until further instruction from myself." Her stare was steel: hard and unyielding.
Luka felt ice-cold fear settle in her belly. "You're— That's my AI!"
To her dismay, darkness returned to the ship.
"You! I ought to—"
Luka screamed when Miku pushed on the wound again.
"Do not move."
When the pressure lessened, Luka bit her tongue, eyes squeezed shut. Despite her best efforts, she was already crying from the blinding pain, struggling to find her breath. She gasped with her mouth closed, every lift of her chest sending a new pang of agony down her spine, but she did her very best to not move.
"Are you listening to me?" the robot asked.
Luka whined.
"Look at me."
After a second, the woman managed to open an eye. The robot hovered over her, seated on the edge of her bed. She kept one hand dangerously close to her injury.
Miku stared at her. Her eyes, sharp like ice, sometimes flickered to the arm that was still in a brace, as if Luka could somehow free herself from it, then to her pinned wrist, then to her face again.
There was no way for her to escape.
"You're hurting me," Luka seethed, though she had never felt so meek.
She probably sounded pathetic.
"I am, aren't I."
"Yes..."
Miku stared. Luka counted her racing heartbeats. After what felt like an eternity, the robot closed her eyes, but their cold glare remained, chilling the woman to the bone. The grip on her wrist shifted a bit. It was almost a caress.
Her next words could just as well have hurt Luka physically.
"A shame."
"Let go...!"
Again, Miku paused, as if in deep thought, before she shook her head. "No."
Still struggling to breathe, every gasp torture, the grip on her wrist was gentle yet unrelenting. Luka could barely even recoil when the robot leaned in closer.
"What—"
The hand rested on her wound. Though it did not push, the touch was already too much.
Luka bit her tongue again, trying to freeze, to swallow her cry. Every breath pushed her ribcage up into the robot's hand. Instinctively, she tried to kick herself up, away, but there was no escaping.
"Do not move," Miku repeated. Her voice was barely a whisper: she was so close, so frighteningly close to her. "Open your eyes."
Luka couldn't even remember when she had closed them. The sight was enough to petrify her for all of a second before the burning need to breathe took over once more.
She was far too close. In the darkness, Luka could far too easily make out the details of her eyes, the irises pristine apertures. The blades looked like slices of opal, blue overall but filled with millions of flecks of color, cut to perfection.
Whatever intelligence lay behind those eyes was looking at her very, very closely, and was thinking very hard.
Luka could barely get herself to stop sobbing.
She opened her mouth to ask, possibly to beg, but the robot only got closer.
The woman's entire body seized up when the robot pressed her cold cheek to hers. Luka's brows furrowed, feeling the swell of her cheekbone, the curve of her eyebrow, the bridge of her nose, all gently brushing against her face.
The touch was so gentle. Tender.
Borderline affectionate.
"Stop—"
"No."
Miku only got closer, letting the corners of her lips graze the skin of the woman's face. Luka closed her eyes once more, tried to get out of the embrace, kicking and writhing despite the hand threatening her wound.
The punishment was swift.
"I told you not to move," Miku warned through Luka's wail, before pushing into the injury again.
Luka screamed, unable to stop from the sheer pain: every one of her senses was screaming at her to get out, to get away, and she could not will herself to be still.
Just when she thought her voice might give in, her wrist was released. The reprieve was short-lived and barely perceived: when the hand landed on her neck instead, Luka felt like she might pass out.
"Stop," she wheezed, voice hoarse.
After another pause, Miku chirped, "No."
She leaned in again, resting her lips right next to Luka's. They were slick with Luka's tears.
"What do you want?" the woman sobbed. "Tell me..."
Her voice tired, almost lazy, she asked right into Luka's ear, "Do you hear me, now? Do you see me now?"
The woman sobbed, barely able to find her breath. Her mind was spinning and she was sure she was going to wet herself from sheer terror. "What do you want?!"
Miku lifted herself and hissed, "Look at me."
Luka forced her eyes open, then whined, "I am."
For the first time, she saw anger in the robot's eyes. The pools of opal flashed red, the pressure on her neck increased, but it was the unrestrained scowl, the creases between her brows, the growl in her voice that made her wish she could force herself to faint. Her terror was so absolute she couldn't even push her away with her freed hand.
"Look at me!"
"I am!" she shrieked.
Her only reward was another stabbing pain in her injury. She screamed, barely able to articulate another plea for her to stop, but no matter how she howled, this time the robot didn't lift her hand, keeping it down, digging into her broken bones, her punctured lung, second after agonizing second.
After a timeless minute, her voice broke. Miku chose that moment to stop and let quiet return.
Luka felt her mind swim between states of consciousness. Breathing hurt from her throat to her chest.
Existing was torture.
And still, the hand loomed, still she was pressed into the bed.
Still, Miku threatened, anger burning in her eyes.
The pure fear was the only motivation she had to collect the shreds of her sanity.
"Please," the woman sobbed. "Please tell me what you want."
Just like that, the hand lifted from her injury. Luka felt her legs give out from the relief and she wasn't even standing. She gasped, the hand on her throat still heavy, yet she could feel the robot's body lift off of her.
Luka took a minute just to breathe, every gasp still infused with agony. When she finally got her eyes open again, she saw Miku sitting upright, with only her hand on Luka's throat. Her other hand was tucked innocently in her lap as if it hadn't just made Luka suffer a hundred deaths.
She was waiting. The stare was no longer angry, but it was so intense, so intent, Luka could feel in her bones that she was waiting.
The hand on her throat flexed.
"I could crush your windpipe, rip open your arteries," Miku whispered. "It wouldn't even be difficult. But I won't."
The woman gasped, holding herself with her free arm.
"Please."
"I won't," she repeated. "I was going to, maybe. But I won't."
"Thank you," she rasped.
Miku smiled. "You're welcome."
She stood. Luka closed her eyes in relief, still trying to catch her breath around the pain. She wanted to curl up and hide away, but every other movement only made recuperating worse.
When a hand gently rested on her good shoulder, Luka almost sobbed. Eyes tightly shut, she waited for the torture.
But nothing happened.
"I have a painkiller," Miku stated simply.
Luka opened her eyes again, saw the robot standing there with the pill and a glass of water.
She couldn't sit up. Miku could help her sit up and take the pill. She could. They both knew it yet she did nothing.
She was waiting.
"I have it right here. You want it. But I have it," the robot stated as if she were talking to a child.
"Please," Luka whispered.
The robot smiled and effortlessly helped her sit up. She rested the pill on Luka's tongue, held the glass to her lips, tilted it so she could drink.
Luka emptied the glass, gasped again when she was done.
Miku didn't release her yet, though.
She stared at her, waiting.
"Thank you."
"You're welcome."
The robot gently laid her down, pulled the covers over her shaking form, and returned to her favorite corner. Luka's eyes followed her every step of the way, shaking from head to toe.
When Miku wished her a good night, Luka could only wish her the same.
That was when Ruko came back online, the ship glowing faintly.
"Luka?"
Her voice felt like it was made of sandpaper. "Yeah?"
"Are you alright?"
After a gulp, Luka managed to wheeze, "Yeah."
The AI did not return to confirm or challenge her reply, and if Miku's ongoing stare was any indication, she had something to do with it.
Luka could only close her eyes, wait for the painkiller to kick in, and finally pass out.