The Price of Freedom (Page 45)

He eased the door open, eyes searching the dimly lit room. Things were different, he realized. Most of his life there had been four or five women who slept here, all slaves. Now there was only one. Calla? No, whoever this was, she was smaller than Calla.

Her body was completely covered by the blanket, a nicer one than he’d remembered having when he’d lived with Jenner. What had happened, where was everyone? And how was he going to find his sister?

He would have to wake the woman up and ask. It was likely that he knew her. He doubted that Jenner would have bought another slave so quickly; the old bitch was notoriously tight with her cash. He walked carefully over to the sleeping woman and knelt silently beside her. Her hair was a soft gold, familiar to him it. It was Hari, the kitchen girl. They had been slaves together for more than a decade. She would never betray him, he thought in relief.

He touched her shoulder softly, shaking her and whispering her name.

"Hari, wake up," he said. She muttered something, and tried to roll over. He had to hold in a laugh.

Some things never changed. Hari had always been the last one up in the morning, and grumpy for hours afterwards.

"Wake up," he repeated, and she opened her eyes.

"What is it?" she asked sleepily, brushing her hair out of her eyes. "I’m sleeping. Jess, is that you?"

She sat bolt upright, looking at him with wide eyes.

"Yes," he replied, unable to keep from smiling at her. She seemed so young. They were nearly the same age, but now he felt like he was centuries older. Life had been so easy here, he thought longingly. He hadn’t known what suffering was…

"What are you doing here? We all thought you would be dead by now!" She gasped, flinging herself into his arms. "Oh, I can’t believe this. We have to go tell the others that you’re alive."

"Shhhh,"he said. "No, we have to be quiet. I can’t be caught here."

"No, everything has changed!" she said. "Oh, Jess, you’re safe here now. Jenner’s gone."

"I know," he said. "But that hardly makes us safe, Hari."

"Oh, no, it does!" she said. "We’re free now, Jess! All of us! The Saurellians wanted to keep using the hostel but they didn’t want to manage it, so they turned it over to us and we’re running it for them now.

It’s wonderful."

He shook his head, unable to understand what she was saying. The Saurellians had freed Jenner’s slaves?

"Where’s Calla?" he asked. Her face changed abruptly, and she looked away.

"I think we should wake Karin up," she said suddenly, referring to the head cook. Jess narrowed his eyes.

"No, I want to hear where Calla is," he said, gripping her shoulders firmly. She tried to turn away from him, and he shook her shoulders roughly. She whimpered. "Where is Calla?"

"Jess, she’s dead," Hari said quietly. Jess suddenly felt dizzy, and shook his head.

"What did you say?" he demanded.

"She’s dead, Jess," Hari whispered miserably. "It happened right after Jenner sold you to the miners. She disappeared that night, and a few weeks later they found her tracking implant in the recycling plant."

Jess shook his head, unwilling to believe what she was telling him. Calla couldn’t be dead. She was a sister, his other half. He had overcome incredible odds to rescue her. What Hari was telling him was impossible. He refused to accept it.

"Jess, I’m so sorry," Hari said miserably. "We never did figure out what happened. We thought maybe she tried to escape, and got picked up by somebody down at the port. You know what can happen to a woman alone down there."

Jess tried not to listen to her, but reality was sinking in against his will. He was all too aware of what could happen to a woman alone. Or a even a man alone, if he didn’t know what he was about. There were certain areas of the port where predators lurked. They were the very same kinds of places that might attract a young woman trying to escape her owner, he thought desperately.

It wasn’t uncommon to find bodies in the station’s recycling pits, either. Or rather, parts of bodies. Her tracking implant was probably the only part of Calla that still existed, he thought numbly. Why hadn’t he forced her to go with him, to escape while they had a chance? He could have saved her, if only he’d been stronger!

He knew it was a question he would ask himself for the rest of his life.

"I have to go," he said abruptly, unwilling to look at Hari. She had been part of his life here. That life was all over now. All over except for one thing. He still owed Mistress Jenner, wherever she was, a visit.

* * * * *

Bethany had long since given up trying to sleep on the floor in the fresher. He had left her several blankets and a pillow, but all she could think about was Jess, creeping through the station. He was going to find his sister, but what if someone stopped him? Would they realize he was an escapee? What would happen to him, and what would happen to her? There was a cold ball of icy blue fire in her belly. No matter how many times she told herself everything was going to be fine, she couldn’t bring herself to believe it.

Something was going to go terribly wrong. She just knew it.

She had no way of measuring the time, but it seemed like hours had passed before she heard noises in the outer room. She listened carefully. One set of footsteps, and no feminine voice. If it was Jess, he didn’t have Calla with him. Or maybe someone else had gotten into their room?

A moment later the fresher door opened. She stared up at the man in the doorway, unable to see his face in the darkness.

"Jess, is that you?" she asked softly.

"Yes," he replied, his voice sounding harsh. Something was terribly wrong; there was no other explanation.

"Where is Calla?" she asked, afraid to hear the answer. He turned away from the fresher and walked back toward the bed. She stood shakily and followed him.

"Calla is dead," he said harshly. "I don’t want you to mention her name again."

"But what—" she started to ask, but he cut her off.

"Be quiet," he said coldly. "We’ll leave in the morning. You’d better get some sleep."

"What about you?" she asked.

"I don’t’ need any sleep," he said tightly. "I need to think."

"All right," she whispered. She crossed the room and slid into the bed, watching him as closely as she could in the darkness. He took a seat in a chair, leaning it back against the wall and putting his feet up.

Silence stretched between them, a tangible thing that seemed unbearably painful to her. He was so alone; every part of her ached to comfort him, to pull him into her arms and soothe his pain.