------------------------
For disclaimers, please see chapter one.
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11: 19
August – 25 August, 2001
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Sunday,
August 19, 2001:
London, Arrowhead Investments, Lobby: 07:15
(GMT)
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Wearing a muted green tie, Edward Nigma approached the security desk, where he informed the fellow, "I am Mr. Nigma, I have an appointment with Ms. Wayne."
The security fellow consulted his computer, and smiled, "I'm sorry, guv, but one of the parties to your meeting is running late. You can either wait upstairs, or there's a tea shop right next door. We'll buy you a cuppa, shouldn't be more than a few minutes."
"I believe I shall wait next door."
"Very good, sir, if I might make a copy of your ID, and just give this coupon to the girl next door." The security guard accepted his passport, making a quick photocopy, then returning it and stamping the coupon. Edward paused, working his way around a couple staring at a long tube of lunar soil running the length of the lobby.
------------------------
'Impressive security' Edward thought as a pair of beefy guards politely asked for his passport, comparing it to his photo pass. Another swept a hand held metal detector over his torso, while the fourth opened the door. 'Who do they have in here, the Queen?' he wondered, shaking hands with Mattie, who mouthed 'Later' at him. He saw another woman, turned, and saw the reason, 'Not quite the Queen, but close,' as he recognized the Royal.
"Lady Sarah," he said politely, who offered her hand. "I didn't know you would be here."
"We have a great deal of interest in Arrowhead, and the Solar Guard," she replied. "I am here as a bona-fide, and also as the chair of the Guard's oversight board, Mr. Nigma. What do you know of the Guard?"
"Beyond the news reports, not much," he said.
"I am aware of your history, Mr. Nigma, so I will not encumber this meeting with explanations. Due to the French veto in the Security Council, we are unable to authorize the Guard as a proper transnational military force. Therefore, as Arrowhead is a British firm, it falls upon Her Majesty's Government to resolve the problem. With the express consent of Parliament, we have a waiver of the 1856 Paris Treaty Amendment."
Edward sat back in thought for a few moments, then shook his head, "I am ashamed to admit it, but I am not familiar with that treaty, or the Amendment."
"Not surprising, the United States never endorsed it, although they did agree to abide by it. Perhaps this will help," Sarah said, sliding a file folder over to him. It had his name on it, Edward was interested to see, as well as the stamp 'Most Secret'.
------------------------
"Very interesting," he admitted. "Why should I accept?"
"Aside from a dismissal of outstanding charges against you through Interpol," Mattie replied, "I would think this would be the greatest challenge of your life, the greatest puzzle of them all."
"And in order to do so, I become a pirate," he replied. "Yo ho ho, thirty pieces of silver and all that."
"Not at all, Mr. Nigma," Lady Sarah said. "The Letter of Marque we would issue to you is very specific, and relates to intelligence matters. It only takes effect outside the heliopause, outside the orbit of Pluto, you would not be authorized use of weapons inside that border. Usage of weapons inside that border would indeed categorize you as a pirate, and the traditional death penalty still applies." She smiled thinly, "Outside that border, we would provide you with funding to purchase a small starship, sufficient for you and your partner."
"My partner, what's with that?" Edward asked.
"As you may recall, there were several slaves we liberated a few weeks ago," Mattie said. "Of these, several wish to travel the stars, but cannot do it as slaves. They will therefore act as your 'native guide', so to speak, acting the part of your slave, collecting intelligence that you cannot, and relying on your protection as their 'master'. Partner is an apt term, as you must rely on each other."
Edward looked askance at the two, "How many agents are we talking, here?"
"You do not need to know that," the third woman spoke for the first time.
"Good," Edward said. He regarded her, musing aloud, "Not introduced by name, a private meeting on intelligence matters, international participation, olive complexion, black hair and eyes... I do believe we have the Mossad present."
"You are wasted on crime," she replied, regarding him over her steepled fingers, index fingers touching the tip of her nose. There was silence, and then she said, "You may call me Judith."
"Lady Judith," he said, with a polite nod. "Assuming I agree, who would know of this?"
"An open-ended question, good," Judith replied. "Of your participation, the four of us, and your partner. Mission parameters, I would brief you and your partner. These two," and she gestured at Lady Sarah and Mattie, "would not know. The commander of the Guard force would have a sealed dossier that would be opened on a coded command from you, in an emergency."
He tapped the folder, "Excellent. May I keep this overnight?"
"We would prefer that it not leave this room," Lady Sarah said. "Should you agree, you would of course have your own copy. Perhaps you would like to think it over, and contact us with any questions. I believe you have Ms. Wayne's information?"
"Not her cell number," he replied, and Mattie pulled a business card out, scribbling a number on the back as Lady Sarah stood, offering her hand.
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Sunday,
August 19, 2001:
London, Arrowhead Investments, Lobby: 13:10
(GMT)
------------------------
"Ma'am, the thirteen-hundred appointment is here," the security guard said, adding, "She's clean, no weapons."
"She IS a weapon," Lady Sarah said, and Mattie tapped her right hand, Judith taking this all in silently, through obsidian eyes. The three of them stood, as Lady Shiva entered the room, the door closed behind her.
"Good afternoon, Ms. Woosan," Lady Sarah began. "What do you know of the Solar Guard?"
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Wednesday,
August 22, 2001:
Port Columbus International Airport, Departures:
05:30 (GMT-5)
------------------------
"We'll be fine, mom," Arthur said, as his mother hugged him. "A simple flight over, Ms. Hawking will pick us up, we'll bunk with her for a week until we take the train to school. What could go wrong?"
"We'll send you an email when we arrive at Heathrow," Julie said. "I'm sure we can find a public access Internet. Worst case, we'll send one from Mattie's house."
"Now Bill," his father told him, "I want you to do what Arthur and Julie say, study hard, and have fun in school." He looked up at the boarding announcement, then gave his youngest a brief hug.
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Wednesday,
August 22, 2001:
London, Heathrow International Airport, Queen's
Customs: 14:10 (GMT)
------------------------
Julie spied Ms. Hawking waiting behind the barrier, and waved at her. She grinned when Mattie's aunt waved back, and poked her brothers, "Ms. Hawking's here."
"Cool," Bill said.
------------------------
"So what have you three been up to?" Sheila asked as they walked through the terminal toward the parking garage. "Any more strange visitors?"
"No," Julie admitted. "I did pull a small prank on that visitor, though." She looked around, then said quietly, "I put a small sticking charm on the back zipper of her bodysuit."
Sheila stopped, eyeing Julie, then admitting, "That's evil, Julie. EVIL." She smirked, "I wish I could have seen it."
"We have the video," Bill said. "We brought a copy, and mailed a copy to Mrs. Grayson, to thank her for her help."
"I think you'll fit in well at Hogwarts, Bill," Sheila said with a grin. "Julie, you said you wanted to send a message home?" She motioned to a cybercafe, "Why don't we stop over there, we'll get something to drink while you do that."
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"I'm home!" Sheila heard, and called, "In the kitchen!" A few minutes later, Mattie appeared, dropping her bookbag and potions kit in the hall, and saying, "Hi, guys. Safe flight?"
"Boring," Bill said. "I should have brought something to read."
"We warned you," Arthur said, giving Mattie a brief hug and asking, "How was your potions final?"
"Weird," she said, smoothing down her school skirt and claiming a chair. "Anne and I were all set to brew these hideous potions, and he asks us to prepare plant infusions. I had c.arabica – he wanted me to brew coffee!" She shook her head, "I swear, I will never understand that man."
"That shouldn't have taken you this long," Sheila said.
"It didn't," Mattie said. "He gave us a lecture, and dismissed us about noon. I had lunch at the Cauldron, then stopped by Arrowhead and caught up on some things, and here I am." She glanced at her aunt, "Uncle Eddie accepted our offer."
"I don't want to know," Arthur said, Sheila replying, "No, you don't. Only the Daimyo over there knows the details."
"Not even all of those," Mattie said. "I don't have 'need to know'."
"What's a Daimyo?" Bill asked.
"Japanese title," Sheila said with a grin. "Basically, it means 'warlord'." She nudged her niece, "Oh, Daimyo, why don't you go grab a shower, change, and we'll go get some pizza before the thundering herds get out of work? I put Julie in with you."
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Taking a seat on the bed, Julie asked, "I hope you don't mind, but I stole some space in your closet." She eyed her temporary roomie, "Why do you have swords in there, and more out here?"
"You didn't play with them, I hope?" Mattie said as she removed graphite knives from her boots, followed onto the dresser by a pair of butterfly swords. Reaching behind her back, she withdrew a pair of weapons before pulling off her jacket.
"I remember those from a movie," Julie said.
"Yeah, we laughed at it. She didn't use them correctly," Mattie said, flashing through some movements with her left hand. "What do you expect for Hollywood? It's called a sai, it's Okinawan. Be careful with it," she added as she flipped it in her hand, offering it to Julie, then continued undressing.
"Why don't you clank when you walk?" Julie asked with a grin.
"I know how to walk," she replied, tapping her forehead, "The most dangerous weapon we possess." She tossed a sheath to Julie, then said, a bit more lighthearted, "I feel more comfortable with a weapon or two close at hand."
"I can see that," she replied, adding, "So when do we get to see Arrowhead?" as Mattie removed her boots.
Popping out her wand, she used cleaning and polishing charms on the boots before setting them neatly in the closet. Unzipping her skirt, she folded it and tossed it on the bed next to Julie before answering, "Later, ok? I don't want to get dressed up in a business suit and skirt today, it was weird enough going in dressed as a schoolgirl." Pulling off her school tie, she added, "Maybe this weekend? It's just an office, after all."
"But it's the MOON," Julie said, "It's space!"
"That stuff is mostly in the lobby," she replied, tossing her blouse on the bed, and reaching behind to unzip her bodysuit. "By the way, I've got an extra wand holster, think Bill could use it?"
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"Y'know, there's something I thought was a bit... weird when we came to visit for Christmas a couple years ago," Julie said. Mattie raised her eyebrow in the mirror, but said nothing as she continued to brush out her hair. Julie continued, "There's no clutter, either here or in Gotham. It doesn't look, well, lived in."
"We do have a couple of house elves there," Mattie said. "As for here, a place for everything, you know." She continued to brush her hair, "Your place is neat enough."
"It doesn't look laid out with a ruler," Julie said. "Is your dorm at Hogwarts like this? Ours always has a pair of someone's tights thrown over a chair, and uncapped bottles of nail polish, and books with a quill holding their place."
"My part's neat," Mattie said slowly, glancing in the mirror. "I'm always dumping Sprink's laundry at the foot of her bed for the elves, because she gets undressed as she walks, leaving a trail to the bathroom. Connie has a habit of sleeping on top of the covers, even in winter, and she doesn't put her laundry away for a day or two, so she'll sleep on a pile of laundry. Anne has a portrait of her family over her desk..."
"Lots of people have photos," Julie objected, "It's not unusual."
Mattie shook her head. "Portrait. This was done in the fourteenth century, she shrunk it and brought it with her. She gets scrolls once a week that they send to her through Professor Oldridge and Professor McGonagall, and she's got a journal that she writes replies in." She put down her hairbrush, "She's a genius, you know? Comparable to Einstein. She'd love to be able to write back, even once. She has these really arcane discussions with Professor Flitwick about causality and math that they get so lost in, unlike us mere mortals." She unconsciously arranged her hairbrush as she asked, "Now then, what about your Gryff dorm? Spill."
"A couple of the girls are experimenting with makeup," Julie said, and Mattie nodded, "So is Sprink. Go on."
"Kenner is always cold. She'll wear sweatshirts to bed, and thick woolen socks, even in summer. Pomfrey's checked her out, and says there's nothing wrong, but she'd build a fire in the middle of the room if she could. She uses up all the hot water in the showers, she'll get all six of them running at once and stand in the middle for the heat. Susan, who was a firstie last year..."
"Susan? Oh, duh, different Susan. Sorry," Mattie said. "Our Susan is still in shock from being Sorted into the Den," she said with a grin. "Her family's been Huffies for like four hundred years. Anyway, sorry to interrupt." There was a knock on the door, Bill's voice called, "You two ready yet? We're hungry!"
"Be down in a sec!" Julie called.
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Wednesday,
August 22, 2001:
London, Soho, Guido's Italian Pizzeria: 16:52
(GMT)
------------------------
"Good afternoon, Ms. Hawking," Maria said. "Your usual table?"
"We have some house guests, something a bit larger, please." As they were lead to a booth, Arthur hung back, "Ms. Hawking, can I have a minute with you later? It's nothing urgent, but I'd like your opinion."
"Certainly, want Mattie there?"
"I'd rather not, please."
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"Anchovies?" Mattie shuddered. "Sorry. I'll stick with a veggie pizza."
After Maria left with the orders, Arthur mentioned, "You eat fish at school."
"Not anchovies, though. It reminds me of a classmate, when I went off planet to school last summer." She took a sip of Coke™, "Like eating your roomie – no way."
------------------------
As Arthur slowed on the walk back, Sheila faded back with him. "What can I do for you, Arthur?"
"You remember about my eyes?" She nodded, "Our burglar – I scanned her to check for concealed weapons, and I noticed something in her right breast. Something I check my Mom and sisters for." She nodded again, "She has a lump. It's deep enough that she probably wouldn't feel it on a self-exam, and it's fairly small, but how do I tell her? I mean, I don't hate her, and..."
"We can plant a suggestion with her doctor," Sheila said, adding after a minute, "Mattie and I?"
"Nothing I've seen," he said, and Sheila breathed a sigh of relief.
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Friday,
August 24, 2001:
Grandview Heights,
Ohio, Federal surveillance: 13:21 (GMT-5)
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"This is Susan," the Fed answered the phone.
"Ellis?" her boss asked. "I got a call from your roomie, she got a call from your doctor, who was calling about a lump of some sort." Her blood turned to ice as he went on, "I assume this is some female thing, get it checked out. She was rather anxious about it. I don't want to lose you, you're doing too good a job there."
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"Hello, Maggie, we haven't had a chance to talk," Susan said, maneuvering into a private place while the menfolk talked around the grill. Lowering her voice, she asked, "I need a referral for a doctor. A female doctor," she added, touching her breast.
Maggie's cool demeanor changed instantly. "Come downstairs to the office, I'll give you a referral to the one we use."
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Friday,
August 24, 2001:
London, Hyde Park: 10:01 (GMT)
------------------------
"So this is where I've been coming for my runs and..."
"Seize him!" Mattie turned to see Lady Shiva, who crooned, "Did you forget our appointment, Miss Wayne?"
"Your appointment is with me, Woosan, not my friends. Let him go."
"I think not," she said, as the two started to circle. "You kill me, he goes free. You lose, he dies. Only a matter of proper motivation, you see. I want to unlock the hidden killer in you, Wayne. Your father never took a life, but he wasn't running a private navy, either."
The gathering crowd started to murmur at that, when Mattie replied, "Death in combat is one thing, death here would be murder."
"Are you willing to sacrifice your boyfriend's life for your principals, Wayne?" Mattie didn't reply, but instead frowned, her eyebrow suddenly twitching upward as she spun for the ground, a sai in her left hand, bo stick in her right as Shiva's kick passed over her, mocking her, "Aren't you planning on fighting for your boyfriend's life? Why don't you use your special weapons?"
Mattie didn't answer, instead saying, "I call first blood."
Shiva smiled cruelly. "I call last, when I snap your neck," she said, "Don't you find it interesting that we're fighting near the Tyburn tree, where so many lost their lives?"
"I'm trying to save a few," Mattie said, focusing on her opponent, as a copper ran up, "'Ere now, what are you two doing? No brawling, now!"
"Brawling? Don't be insulting!" Shiva said, while Mattie's attention was diverted for a moment as she said, "Get out of here, officer, unless..." She ducked and rolled, knocking him out of the way of Shiva's attack and spinning into a series of kicks and punches, as others dragged the unconscious officer away.
"Jesus, Mary and Joseph," one spectator said, while another crossed herself as she watched the blindingly fast series of parries, kicks, and blows. "They're trying to kill each other."
"'Ere y' go, officer, have a bit o' water," one spectator told the copper as he shook himself awake. "'Y walked into a right nasty buzzsaw there. Bloody 'ell, they are trying to kill each other."
"Na, didn't y' here? The Jap is holdin' Wayne's boyfriend 'ostage, she's fightin' f' 'im." The fellow was silent, "Wonder where she learned 'ow to fight like that."
Julie overheard this, and said one word, "Gotham."
------------------------
Both fighters had been disarmed, and each sported several bruises and cuts as they continued to circle. Mattie held up a hand, saying, "One minute, I smell a setup."
"It took you long enough," Shiva said, taking a step back with a smirk.
Wayne looked at her from under lowered eyebrows, then took a look at her calmly standing 'hostage' boyfriend, and said in an icy voice, "Arthur Donald Morton, you're mine."
Arthur gulped, telling his 'captor', "Better let me go, she doesn't look happy."
"I would agree with that. Good luck, Mr. Morton," the ninja said, doing a rapid fade into the crowd. Arthur briefly considered joining him and waiting a century or two until her temper had cooled.
He was saved when a large hand in a blue sleeve latched onto her shoulder, and a deep voice said, "I've had just about all of this that I can take." Superman turned, and crooked his finger, "Lady Shiva, don't make me come after you, and for you, Mr. Morton, don't even think about it."
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Friday,
August 24, 2001:
Fortress of Solitude: 10:31 (GMT)
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They landed softly, Superman telling them, "This is my home, where you three are going to cool off and make up. Kitchen is through there, medlab and bathroom through there. I would strongly advise you not to go wandering about, while your father may have had access, you, Miss Wayne, do not." He glowered at them, "I'll be back soon, you might want to think about lunch. Any questions?"
"Just one, please," Mattie said through puffs of white breath, "Could you turn up the heat?"
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As coffee perked in the kitchen, Arthur leaned against the counter, eyeing the two women parked in chairs on opposite sides of the table. "You both need a trip to the medlab, and DON'T tell me 'I'm fine.'." They ignored him, and each other, and he opened the fridge, extracting a Pepsi™. Grumbling, he extracted a pound coin, flipping it then pointing, "Lady Shiva, you go get cleaned up. Mattie, you help me get lunch put together, then you'll trade." Grabbing a kitchen timer, he twisted it, "You've got fifteen minutes, and DON'T tell me that's not long enough, I have four sisters."
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Kal landed softly, and listened to the conversation. He nodded to himself, and entered the kitchen, where Shiva was just saying, 'If you take that Hokkendo back-kick, and counter-rotate your foot... Hello, Superman." She eyed him critically, "You look like you've been a hundred rounds with a heavyweight, if you get my meaning."
"Thank you, Ms. Woosan, I feel like it, too, but I have a bad feeling about it. Please, call me Kal. I wanted to check with you three, and see how lunch was going. I brought some fresh veggies, I'm going to change, back in a minute."
Arthur was unpacking the paper bags, from the farmer's market in Ottumwa, Iowa. He folded one, saying, "I never thought that place was real."
"Oh, it's real, all right," Kal said from the doorway. "About twenty-five thousand in population." Wearing a Metropolis Meteors polo shirt and jeans, he entered the kitchen, opening a cabinet door, "Bags in here, please. How can I help?"
"I don't know, how good a baker are you?" Arthur asked as Mattie chopped vegetables.
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"One thing I don't understand," Arthur asked Shiva as he drained the spaghetti, "How can you simply walk around, surely you have warrants out for you?"
"I am officially not hearing the answer, although I'm curious too," Kal said.
"Don't call me Shirley," she said with a grin, "Unofficially then," Shiva replied, "You have certain contacts in certain areas that can provide what you need. Ships, aircraft, weapons, documents, whatever. Some are affiliated with government agencies like CIA and KGB, some are freelancers. Some are trustworthy, some not. Some are 'honest politicians', some will sell you out the instant your back is turned."
"Like some boyfriends," Mattie said coldly, then continued, "While it's been a while since I've been off planet, the T'Cha were 'honest politicians'. They're about five-eight, a fairly good build, salmon colored skin and small tentacles where their mustache would be. They have extended families, and of course refer clients to other family members." She glanced at Kal and Arthur, "Meet their price, and exceed it by about twenty-five percent, in the name of their 'duty', and they'll be a very reliable friend for the duration of their contract. Aside from that, any information deals with Guard Intelligence, and you don't have Need To Know."
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Saturday,
August 25, 2001:
London, The Strand, Bundy home: 07:30 (GMT)
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Sheila pulled up the long drive, parking behind the Mercedes. Karen was outside, coaching Kent and waved, "Anne's inside."
"When do I get to go?" Kent asked, his big sister ruffling his hair.
"Let us get it built up a bit, then you can go."
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Inside, Anne was being 'advised' by two sets of parents, one current, one dead and ghostly. One noticed them and floated over, "Miss Wayne, what are you doing to ensure my daughter's safety?"
"Your daughter, sir, is a ship's officer. Until she can qualify with side arms, and gains a bit more experience, she'll be accompanied by, and will assist, a naval infantryman, a soldier, who will look out for her. I cannot be with her, we have a great deal to do and not much time or personnel to do it with." She looked him in the eye, and said, "I have never lost any of my people, and I have no intention of starting now."
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Saturday,
August 25, 2001:
London, Arrowhead Investments, Security Office:
09:34 (GMT)
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Liz hesitantly knocked on the door, saying, "Excuse me?
"Yes, Ms. Sterling, isn't it?" The burly ex-Marine said, "What can I do for you, lass?"
"Well, my room-mate Ash, Ashley Nicheyev, was gone when I got up today, and I thought she might be here. She left me this note, and... well, I'm worried." She saw the other fellow, and said, "Oh, I'm sorry, I'll come back later."
"No, lass, this is my mate, Detective Sergent Conners, we served together. He's with the Yard, if you have a missing mate, it's more important than our war stories. Might I see the note?"
"Oh, yes, I'm sorry," she said as the note was passed over. Thompson read it aloud,
"Liz – gone to the stars. Don't wait up for me, Ash."
Passing it to his mate, saying, "Unfortunately, there are three starships on this planet at the moment, lass. One is under court hold in New York pending the resolution of ownership, the other the boffins are tearing apart, and the third was scheduled to leave about an hour ago."
Conners said, "We'll still take a look, lass. Can you come with me?"
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Saturday,
August 25, 2001:
Cassidy
Yates, outbound: 10:06 (relative)
------------------------
"...now let me do a quick overview of what each team is going to do. Team R is tasked with..." Mattie's briefing was interrupted by Anne's arrival, pushing a figure ahead of her, "Excuse me, Captain, but I found her hiding in the head in cabin two."
"Crap," she said. "Alfred, why didn't you pick up on her?"
"There were several last-minute updates to the access list, and of those, three were verbally cleared, Captain. I apologize, I misplaced her in the confusion."
Mattie looked the taller blonde up and down, inspecting her. Almost as an afterthought, she said, "We'll have to secure our stocks of jumpsuits, I see. I presume you stole yours from the office, Ms. Nicheyev?"
She swallowed rapidly, then said, "Yes, ma'am."
"And imitated the skinsuit with a leotard, I presume. That indicates advanced planning, not a spur-of-the-moment lark." She glanced at the German, "Hauptfeldwebel Schultz, we'll need to revise our security. The Guard's ID is too close in design to Arrowhead's. Alfred, location, please?"
"Interstellar space, captain."
"Thank you. Please start recording," and she looked at the stowaway. "Ms. Nicheyev, stowing away aboard a ship is illegal in every country on Earth. Do you have funds to pay for this trip?"
The girl shook her head, and the captain sighed, "Furthermore, Ms. Nicheyev, the Interstellar Commercial Code, which we are now under, gives the captain of a ship three options to deal with a stowaway." The blonde swallowed nervously as the captain went on, "One, I can space you. You would be sucked out the airlock into the drive field, where you would be torn apart into your component atoms. A quick death."
"Two, I can enslave you," she continued coldly. "As a legal conviction, you could not be freed, or even upgraded to a common slave without a court order. You would be buried in that collar, one like T'ree's." She motioned to the golden-skinned alien, who stepped forward, hissing, "Stupid hoo-man, like mine. Want one? You'll get it, if you're unlucky. Better a quick death, instead, to pray for."
"Third option is 'Captain's Option', which means I can do whatever the hell I want with you," Mattie said, and Anne raised her eyebrow. When her captain used profanity, it meant she was truly upset. "I can use you for medical experimenting, whatever else the fracking HELL I want to do. Are we clear on that, Ms. Nicheyev?" The blonde swallowed nervously, "You didn't know that, did you? Tell me, why did you do it?"
"I... I... well, it's a stupid reason, but I... wanted one of those collars, and it looked like..." She ran down, "I said it was a stupid reason, I'm sorry, Captain. I won't do anything like it again."
"Damn right you won't," the captain replied. "Ms. T'ree, would you and Ms. Tanaka take her to my cabin, please? In a storage locker at the foot of my bunk there is a black bag with a more appropriate outfit. Please assist her in changing, making certain that it is nice and tight, and then return with her."
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Hideo slammed her hard against the bulkhead, "You stupid bitch, you want a slave collar? This isn't some silly piece of bondage gear, this doesn't even lock on your neck. No, it's implanted, and a neurosurgeon may be able to remove it. It sends tendrils all up and down your nervous system, you see, and most masters, even if they free you, don't want to pay that expense."
"Why should they free you, a slave is a disposable piece of equipment, you p'tah?" T'ree spat. "There are no old age homes for slaves, after you've been worked to near death, if you're fortunate, the government will give you a quick death, by cutting your head off." She held two fingers a few inches apart, slashing them across Ash's neck. "They use lasers, a nice clean cut, and keep the part of your neck that had the collar, for research into better collars, you see, and grind up the rest of your body for animal feed. Why not? You're just another animal, a slave animal." She gripped Ash's throat, "Don't even think about a slave revolt. Masters make too much money off slaves to allow it, all they have to do is press a button, and every single nerve in your body locks up in agony. You can't fight, you can't think, you can't even breathe."
"You think you're a pretty girl?" Hideo said. "Think again. There are breeding programs, and farms for slaves, to make them more docile, more beautiful, and more intelligent. They're the most fabulously beautiful females you'll ever see, and every one of them is just like you." She banged Ash into the bulkhead again, "A toy. An object. There's nobody to help you while you're being raped, there's no safe word to make the beating stop. It stops when your master wants it to stop, not one second sooner, and then you're put back to work."
T'ree snarled, "Wanting one of these is an insult to every last being in the Universe that wears one, starting with me. So give me a reason to kill you so I don't have to put up with your stupidity anymore." She took a step back, and said, "Strip, you idiot, and we'll get you changed like the Captain wants."
------------------------
After they had gone, Mattie put her face in her hands, scrubbed a bit, then said, "What the hell do I do with her?"
"Give her what she wants, a collar," one of the slaves said coldly. "Then sell her off."
"Captain, if I may?" the Riddler said, "It occurs to me that my Letter allows me greater latitude in this matter than you. While I find the thought of owning another being repellent, I can adapt for the sake of my mission. If I am successful in gaining one of my prizes, a machine that will de-collar our colleagues, it could also logically be used to place a collar. She must learn that actions have consequences, and I will keep her with me as part of my team, although ignorant of my actual missions. If I need to, I will collar her."
She turned as Ash returned in a very tight black slave corset, hands fastened behind her. A set of keys was tossed on the table next to the girl's bag.
"Comfortable, Ms. Nicheyev?" the Captain asked coldly, and the girl shook her head 'no'. "I am this close (holding up two fingers a millimeter apart), to collaring you. I'll ask you once again, do you have any money with you?"
The girl swallowed in fear, "I've a tenner in my wallet, for the train home," she whispered.
The captain rooted through her bag, pulling out a ten pound note. She shoved it in a pocket, saying, "You will sign the ship's articles as a cabin girl, working off your passage. When we land, while you will nominally be free and rank above the slaves, you will do what they 'suggest', is that clear?" The girl nodded, as the captain continued, "You are the lowest one on this ship, you will take orders from First Officer Bundy, you will be seen and not heard. If I hear ONE complaint about you, you WILL wear a collar for the rest of your natural life. To remind you, you will wear that slave corset until told otherwise. Do you have any questions?"
The girl was gasping for breath, but managed to stand up somewhat, "No, Captain. I accept your judgment."
"Good," Mattie Wayne stood, and said, "For the admitted crime of seeking transport without payment of compensation, also known as stowing away, this ship's court finds you guilty, and in accordance with the Interstellar Commercial Code, sentences you to ship's service until your fare is paid. Failure to comply with the orders of your superiors will mean judicial enslavement for the rest of your natural life, or upon a court's pleasure to manumit you." She glared at the girl, "Do you understand this sentence?"
"I do..." she gasped out, and the Captain said, "Alfred, stop recording. Now then, let's go over what else we're doing. Ms. T'ree will be going with Ms. S and the Hauptfeldwebel as we ship-shop, as our technical consultant. After that, Ms. S (she gestured toward Lady Shiva) will be pursuing her own mission..."
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"Approach Control to Cassidy Yates," the comm said.
"This is Yates, go ahead, Approach," Mattie replied, turning to the view screen.
"I'm reading a Power Ring, Yates," the controller said.
"That's mine," Mattie said, as Shiva, Riddler and Hauptfeldwebel Schultz turned to look at her. "Attend to your boards!" she snapped, adding, "Sorry, Approach. We're in the market for some ships, so I'd like to reserve four bays, next to each other if possible, in the capital city."
"Ah, one moment, please, Yates." There was silence as Riddler muttered, "Why am I not surprised?", then the controller came back, "Yates, follow glide path 112-B to bays 32 through 35."
"Thank you, Approach. Yates out," Mattie said, then looked at the others, "What?"
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Saturday,
August 25, 2001:
Epsilon Eridani III, Docks, Bay 32: 20:18
(relative)
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As the bank's armored hover-van vanished into the distance with their deposit, Mattie tucked the receipt into her bag, zipping the chip inside. "Alfred, I must thank you for keeping the account active. We have more money than I thought. Is there anything I can do for you?"
"I'll think of something, Captain. For now, might I suggest a brief walkabout this evening, in order to acclimate people?"
"Good idea, however, we should visibly arm ourselves," Schultz said.
"I'm certain I'm not the only one who has concealed arms," the Captain said with a chuckle. "Why borrow trouble? Check what the locals are wearing and arm yourselves accordingly."
"I'll take The Idiot with me," the Riddler said, "If necessary, I'll say she's my idiot niece, which should be good for a laugh. I'll start feeling out the territory."
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"Don't worry, Oberleutnant Bundy, this is not nearly as exciting as some ports," the sergeant said, his MP7 ready. Their 'slaves' followed behind them, chained by the neck (with a special 'quick release' locking mechanism) as they wandered through the port area in the early evening.
"Look, a dealer in weapons," Anne said, and they angled that way, the sergeant telling one of the girls, "Stay here," and locked a chain around one girl's throat for a disguise.
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