Planet Athion: The Complete Series by Angel Lawson

26

Mercy

I waketo the sound of metal creaking and a sharp pain in my neck and another behind my ear. Groaning, I shift to my side and blink, the room—not my room—coming into view. The walls are gray, steel, and the room is dark, other than a single bulb hanging from a chain in the middle of the curved ceiling. I’d spent my time on the transport ship asleep, not awake at all, but I know in a moment that’s where I am: a ship.

It's been days, I think, since I was taken from the transition facility. I vaguely recall waking before—chained to the wall. I scan the room for the scary girl with her dirty face and matted hair who told me I’d been taken to the Master’s ship and I’m now a slave, but I don’t see her in the dark, dank room.

I have no reason to doubt her, but every fiber in my body wants to reject what she told me. It has to be a mistake. I’m not a slave. I’m Mercy Ladd. Midwife. Pioneer to Athion.

I stand, wobbly on my feet, the springs under my mattress straining. There are no windows. Just a door. Stretching my legs, I walk over and touch the flat, cold surface. There’s no handle from the inside. I remember Dr. Kane—or whoever the hell he is—flirting with me, whispering in my ear. I recall the evil smile, the glint and then pain of the needle. He didn’t care for me. He never had. He just wanted me for something—my skills, if not more.

“Hey chickadee, finally woke up, eh? They must’ve doped you up good.”

I spin around, surprised to hear another voice. I see nothing—no one, until a shadowy figure emerges from the corner. No, three shadowy figures.

“Hello?” I ask, trying to keep my voice calm. I am not calm. Not in the least. “I can’t see you.”

“Because we’re smart, and hiding is the safest thing to do down here.”

“Where are we?” I ask, hoping for a different answer.

“Hell,” one woman snorted. Her face is dirty, her once-blonde hair matted, her clothes ragged and torn.

“Ah, don’t listen to her, chickadee,” the one that spoke earlier says. She’s moved further into the light and I see that she has wild black hair, curled out in an afro, and smooth, brown skin. Her hands are dirty and her feet bare. “It’s not so bad. You’re a pretty thing. You’ll get snatched right off the auction block.”

“The auction block?” I ask, feeling dread in my belly.

The women tittered, giggling in the shadowy room. It didn’t sound as much mocking as just slightly unhinged. The third woman sat on the floor, drawing designs with her finger in the dust.

“I guess you may as well hear it from me,” the woman with dark skin says. “You’re on a Tradrych slave ship and we’re all up for auction. For sale. Some of us for sex and making babies, some of us to clean toilets, others to cook and clean and serve.” She eyes me. “I’m thinking you’re for sex.”

“No,” I say. “No, I don’t think so.”

She cocks her head. “Why not? You’re pretty enough. Good body. Nice teeth and eyes.”

“The m-man that took me said something else. I’m skilled, and I suspect he needs my services.”

“Skilled in what?” the blonde asks. She has an accent—French, maybe.

“I’m a midwife.”

Their eyes widen. The one on the floor looks up.

“A midwife?” the dark-haired one repeats, then laughs loudly. “You’ll go quick—the Trad birther rings need people like you.”

There’s a sound in the hallway and everyone looks up. The three women slink back into the shadows. There’s movement at the door and in a quiet voice, I hear, “Don’t assume because you have a skill they won’t also want your body, chickadee. These males? They want both.”

The door swings open before I have a chance to say anything else, and a man with a mask over his head enters the room, walking toward me and grabbing me by the arm. I’m halfway out the door when I hear a voice call in French, “Good luck,” before the metal door slams and I’m pushed down the hall.

* * *

I’m shakingas I’m taken down a long hallway and left in an empty, sterile room. It’s cleaner than the holding cell I’ve just come from but no less a prison. The door locks behind my escort and there’s nothing in the room. Just a chair bolted to the floor and a long, silver table.

I don’t know how long I wait, but in the silence of the room, my stomach grumbles, realizing it’s been too long since my last meal. There’s a bitter taste in my mouth and I try my hardest not to panic as the minutes pass by.

I know one thing for certain: I need to get out of here.

I refuse to sit, and wait with my back against the wall until I finally hear the sound of someone outside the door and the beep of the lock opening. I act the instant I see the gap between the door and the wall. Lunging at the person walking in, kicking first, punching second. There’s a gasp and the clatter of a data pad on the floor. Dr. Kane and I stare at one another in shock, but I regain my senses and push past him, racing down the hall.

“Stop her!” His voice echoes down the hall. An alarm sounds, ringing in my ears. I dig deep, thinking about what my men would want me to do—fight.

I dart down a side hallway and try all the doors. None budge. I don’t even know where I’m going. It’s a ship. What am I going to do? Jump into space?

But I don’t want them to think they own me. Not Kane. Not whoever this Master is. I became a pioneer to change the world, not to just be another victim.

The echo of footsteps bounces off the hallway behind me. I don’t look back. I run. I run down the narrow corridors, arms pumping, feet slapping against the cold steel floor.

I run until I reach the end. There, I stop and brace myself and turn—facing the burly men running my way, and when they finally reach me, I fight back.