Caged with the Alien Gladiators by Corin Cain
Jacky
My body is one big ache, but it’s the humidity in my nose that makes me panic.
My white jumpsuit clings to my body. Humidity like this means one thing. “Toads,” I groan, blinking awake, still groggy from the statis-sleep. The stink is an assault on my nose, fetid and ripe. The light is faint and artificial, bathing us from tubes in the ceiling above.
I was supposed to wake up safe. All those back-breaking hours of work were supposed to pay off.
Fate’s cruel like that. I’m not alone, and the wailing from the other captives makes my headache worse. I look over at the sobbing rows.
All women. That means something.
“You guessed it,” comes a voice from my right. A hard voice, no nonsense. I rub my arms, checking for restraints. Nothing. I’m still in the thin white uniform you’re stuck in before you go into the sleeping pod. They boasted a 99.987 percent chance you wake without major side-effects.
Nowhere in the brochures do they talk about the risks of pirates and slavers picking off a ship.
I pull myself up, pressing my back against the wall, trying to get my strength. It’s moist and clammy against my back but it’s the only way I’m keeping myself propped up. We’re at least twenty or thirty of us, not packed in too tight, illuminated by the flickering light above. The ceiling is low and claustrophobic.
We’re in the hold of a ship.
The woman to my right is surveying the cell with hawk eyes. She’s been awake longer, or she recovers faster from statis-sleep, because there’s no tiredness in her eyes. Even sitting I can tell she’s tall, with short cropped black hair and defiance in her gaze.
My eyes just want to close. I’m so tired, but my heart is pounding.
“Where are we going?” I cough, catching my breath.
“No fucking clue. No guards have been down. There’s a bathroom over there,” she says, pointing towards a door with a line, “and that’s about it. This hold is not set up for long flights, so we got scooped up close to where we’re going. What’s your name?”
She has a direct way of speaking, sizing me up. “Jacky.”
“I’m Kay. You want to get out of here?” she whispers, her eyes getting more intense. I nod.
“If they get us to wherever we’re going, it’s all over. Look around. All women. Put it together yet?”
The fear surges up until I’m barely human. I push it down, wiggling my fingers and toes, getting control of my body. “Aurelians,” I whisper.
And not the honorable kind.
The honorable members of the all-male species don’t buy women at auctions.
There’s only one fate worse than being sold to a Rogue Aurelian.
“If we’re lucky. We could be fresh meat for a Bullfrog,” she says with hate in her voice, her lips curling up. “You don’t look like a crier. You look like a do-er. Is that accurate?”
My whole life has been a journey. I had friends in the first station, and they all stayed. I didn’t bother making friends at the second or third. They were stepping stones to safety before the universe erupted into war.
My life’s journey was to avoid this exact scenario.
No one will take my freedom. No one.
“That’s accurate.”
“Can you walk?”
“I can walk,” I say, trying to pull myself up. My legs are shaky and my vision goes black. Kay steps up to help me, but I wave her away, stumbling and catching my balance. Kay eyes me with new respect.
“I knew you were a fighter. When you see me walk towards you, start banging on the door. You scream ‘she’s dying, she’s dying, she needs a medic.’ Toads don’t give a damn about us, but they won’t want to waste a woman so close to auction.”
You can’t bet on a Toad’s mercy, but you can sure as hell count on his love of credits.
“What’s the plan?”
“We hope it’s Toads and not Bullfrogs. I kill the guard, we hope there’s more fighters than just the two of us in the brig. No one wants to make the first move, but there’s thirty of us down here. If enough follow us, we can take over the ship.”
“That’s a gamble,” I say, stretching and twisting, my motor functions almost at a hundred percent.
“A gamble? That’s a useless statement. We’re being taken to an auction house. We’re going to be sold to the highest bidder. Are you a virgin?”
When you spend every waking hour working, there’s no time for romance.
“Why?”
“Because if you are, Rogue Aurelians will pay top dollar. If you aren’t, you might get bought by a Toad. We need to act, and act now. Are you in or out?”
I nod, terrified, but I can’t just sit back and let this happen to me. I need to do something, even if it feels hopeless.
“Go.”
Kay makes a beeline to the bathroom. I step over a sleeping figure, my feet cold against the steel floor as I walk towards the main door. Every hair on my neck rises up, the adrenaline waking me. I’m still sluggish from the stasis-sleep but there’s no time to recover.
The women in line complain and yell as Kay pushes herself to the front of the line, making a vomiting sound like she’s about to heave. I stumble to the door. It’s automated. There’s a scan pad for a keycard or a smartwatch. Thick metal. No way anyone is getting in or out without them opening it from the outside.
The entire room has their attention on Kay as she disappears into the bathroom. Even the screamer stops, catching her breath and watching. There’s a crack of something breaking and a gasp, then she comes out, holding half the toilet seat in her hands. It’s got a wicked jagged edge where she broke it.
This is really happening.
I pound on the door. “One of the girls is having a seizure! She’s dying, she’s dying!” I scream, as loud as I can, wailing on the door with my open palms.
Nothing happens.
These Toads don’t care about losing a piece of their merchandise.
Kay strides towards me with murderous intent. She has a bounce in her step like a predatory cat.
The doors hiss open. Brackish grey water, stinking like sewage, seeps in through the open doors. I hold back a wretch.
A Toad leers at me, his eyes beady, holding a cattle prod menacingly. He’s about my height, but he’s huge, all thick, warty skin and a massive wet belly that balloons out above his loincloth. His legs are like tree trunks, with webbed feet that stand in a foot of water that’s seeping into the brig.
The Toad waves the cattle prod, pressing the button on the handle so it sparks electricity. I take a step back instinctively, holding my hands up. “Where!” He grunts the word out in the Common tongue, his eyes scanning the room for the dying woman.
Kay rushes around the door. There’s a crunch as the toilet seat goes through the Toad’s mouth. He gurgles and presses the cattle prod at her, missing, and falls to the ground. Kay rips his smartwatch from his wrist and grabs the prod in one swift movement, looking up at the hallway. It’s sloping, ending in another set of doors.
“Get as many as you can,” she orders.
I turn. Women are pulling themselves away from the water seeping in. Toads like to stand in at least a few feet, and the incline is making the brackish water pour into our holding cells. I’ve got their attention, at least. “Come on! This is our only chance! If we don’t overpower them, they’re going to sell us to Toads!”
There’s stunned silence. Out of the thirty, ten or so get up, with grim expressions.
It’s just going to have to do.
From up the hallway, I hear the second set of doors hiss open. “Fuck.” The one word from behind me makes my heart fall. There’s defeat in Kay’s voice. I turn, not wanting to, scared of what I’m going to see.
A Bullfrog.
Nearly ten feet tall. His head brushes against the ceiling of the hallway. He’s got hands the size of dinner plates and huge muscles under his rough, warty exterior. He makes the gurgling, dying Toad look like a toy. His face is wide and beast-like, with thick, jagged teeth jutting from his mouth.
Kay drops the cattle prod. She’s strong, but you can’t go up against something three times your size.
The Bullfrog is grinning. “Want a piece?” he asks, pointing to the Toad dying on the ground. The Toad tries to push itself away, but its muscles aren’t working. Kay slammed the porcelain almost straight through him.
“No,” says Kay, stepping back. “We won’t cause any trouble,” she says, grabbing my hand and pulling me back into the room.
The doors hiss shut, but a foot of metal can’t stop the horrid sounds. I put my hands against my ears, but I can’t blot out the sickening crunches as the Bullfrog cannibalizes the smaller member of its species.