On The Imperium’s Secret Service (Imperium Cicernus) (2 page)

He stepped forward, the cane rapping out his footsteps on the stone floor.  “What do you think you are
doing
to her?”

The guards looked at their chief, a man who seemed to enjoy the perks of his career as a jail supervisor.  “We...we were teaching the bitch some manners,” he said, finally.  Mariko had never heard someone sound so terrified before, even her mother when she’d pleaded with their father not to allow the girls to set out on their own.  “She injured one of my men.”

“I did not pay fifty thousand credits for damaged goods,” the stranger said.  There was something about his voice that suggested that there would be unpleasant consequences in the future. 
Fifty thousand
credits!  Mariko knew that the value of the Imperium’s Credit had been declining for centuries, but one could still buy a bulk freighter for fifty thousand credits and have spare change to hire a crew.  “I am The Honourable Lord Fitzgerald d'Anconia Narragansett Grytpype-Thynne.  We do not pay
anything
for damaged goods.”

Mariko felt her eyes widen in shock.  The Grytpype-Thynne Family was a legend, one of the oldest of the families that made up the Grand Senate.  There was no way to know how Lord Fitzgerald was related to the Grand Senator who headed the family, but there was no doubt that they would respond to an insult to their name.  The next visitors to Dorado might be a squadron from the Imperial Navy, intent on teaching the locals some manners.  It had happened before and would probably happen again.

Lord Fitzgerald glanced at her again and shook his head.  Unlike the guards, he didn't seem to linger on her body.  “Release her,” he ordered, “and then open her sister’s cage.”

The guard stared at him.  “But they’re dangerous criminals...”

“...Who happen to be my property,” Lord Fitzgerald said, firmly.  Mariko felt herself blanch inside.  She was a slave now.  The only good thing about it was that Lord Fitzgerald didn't seem to be like Carlos.  Maybe he’d decided to buy them on a lark and he’d give them their freedom sooner or later.  “Release them, and then go find their property.  I paid for that to be included in the auction.”

“Yes, Milord,” the guard said, and started barking orders at his subordinates.  The guard Mariko had hurt was helped to his feet and dragged off to the medical bay, where he would probably be given some painkiller and told to get back to work.  Dorado was not known for having a good healthcare system, unless one happened to be rich and powerful.  “I’m afraid that some of their property was taken before we managed to secure their ship.”

“I’m sure it was,” Lord Fitzgerald said, dryly.  The police would have gone through their property, taken anything interesting or valuable, and then shipped the rest to the prison, where the guards would see if
they
found anything interesting or valuable.  Mariko had no idea how much of their property had survived long enough to be sold with them, but right now she found it hard to care.  They wouldn't have been able to take the funds from their Imperial Credit Bank account.  There would be enough there to get transport back home, if necessary.  “Now, leave us.”

Mariko slumped to the floor as the handcuffs were removed, her body still tingling after she’d been shocked.  Lord Fitzgerald walked over and offered her a hand, helping her to her feet, before stepping aside to allow her to hug Mai tightly.  Her sister was crying openly, as if she thought that they’d been reprieved – and in a sense, they had been.  Surely Lord Fitzgerald couldn't be as bad as Carlos. 

“I was given to understand that you were both qualified space pilots,” Lord Fitzgerald said, after a moment.  He’d been kind enough to let them hug each other before interrupting.  “Is that true?”

“Yes, sir,” Mariko said.  The qualifications had been why they’d been allowed to purchase a freighter and set off on their own, although on Dorado she suspected that it was easier to bribe the local Imperial Shipping Officer than actually sit for the exams.  Maybe Lord Fitzgerald had had reason to distrust the local claims when he’d entered the auction.  “We were both tested on Edo two years ago – our files should be accessible if you use the codes on our ID cards.”

“Which isn't actually possible on Dorado,” Lord Fitzgerald said, dryly.  Mariko flushed.  She should have realised that that wouldn't be immediately possible.  Lord Fitzgerald might have had enough money to buy the planet and everyone on it, but he couldn't alter simple geographical realities.  The nearest system with a wormhole station was twenty-three light years away.  “But rest assured I will inspect them once they are back in your hands.”

He turned and led them out of the prison complex, up a long flight of stairs and into a large open room that had clearly been designated as the clearing house.  Most of the guards had vanished, but two had remained to sort out the boxes containing everything they’d taken from the
Happy Wanderer
.  Seeing the small pile of clothing and a handful of datachips made her wince.  Their property had been pawed by strangers and most of the good stuff was gone.

“Here, Milord,” she said, as she recovered the wallets containing their ID cards.  They, at least, were difficult to fake without causing major problems for anyone who actually tried to use them.  “You should be able to check the certificates easily.”

Lord Fitzgerald nodded and pulled a reader out of his suit’s pocket.  Mariko left him to it and concentrated on digging through the boxes.  The searchers had had odd priorities.  Some fashionable clothes from Edo had been ignored, but they’d taken all of her sexy underwear and a handful of short skirts.  The strictly boring underwear she wore while in deep space had been left behind, as had her shipsuit.  But Mai’s shipsuit – which was more fashionable – was gone.

“Dress quickly,” Lord Fitzgerald said.  Mariko remembered their position and scrambled to put on some clothes, urging Mai to do the same.  They were his slaves – and would remain that way until he let them go.  No one would protect them against a Grand Senator’s family.  “We have a great deal of work to do.”

But it could be worse, Mariko told herself firmly.  It could be a great deal worse.

The air was hot and muggy, smelling of burning hydrocarbons and cooking mixed together into an unpleasant stench that pervaded the capital city, but it seemed heavenly compared to the prison.  They hadn’t been allowed to shower, let alone wash themselves thoroughly, and Mariko was painfully aware of her own smell.  The prison had been so bad that she’d worried that they might catch something their enhanced immune systems wouldn't be able to handle.  Now...

Lord Fitzgerald didn't seem to notice how badly his slave girls smelled, but Mariko knew that they couldn't go into public smelling so badly, or everyone would be staring at them.  It was bad enough that they had just walked out of jail with a man wearing clothes from the heights of society...she shook her head, smiling at herself.  She should be grateful that she was alive, if not free.  At least they weren't being marched to face Carlos’s tender mercies.

“I think we will make a brief stop at my hotel and then go shopping,” Lord Fitzgerald said, once they had climbed into a taxi.  The taxi driver seemed about to object until Lord Fitzgerald waved a sheaf of local currency under his nose.  Imperial Credits from Homeworld would go a long way on a third-rate planet on the edge of the Imperium.  “I trust that you have no objection?”

Mariko winced, inwardly.  They were slaves, little better than the Indents who made up most of the labour force along the Rim.  What would it matter if she objected?  “No, Milord,” she said, glancing over at Mai.  Her sister was staring at their buyer with wide admiring eyes.  He’d saved them both from a fate worse than death, after all.  “We do need a wash.”

The Hotel Imperial was easily the most expensive hotel on the planet.  She’d looked at it, trying to determine if the exchange rate between local currency and their small collection of various other currencies made it possible for them to stay there, but it would have been too expensive before they made several other shipping runs.  Lord Fitzgerald, on the other hand, would have had no problems paying for a week’s accommodation at the luxury hotel.  Mariko fought down a flash of envy as the taxi stopped outside the building, allowing them to walk inside and up a flight of stairs that led to a vast suite of rooms.  How could one man need all of that space?  She could have landed a small freighter in his suite without scraping the walls.

“There are towels and soup in the bathroom,” Lord Fitzgerald said.  He seemed oddly concerned for them, in a high-handed manner that Mariko wasn't sure she liked.  Maybe he was just taking care of his investment.  “Wash yourselves clean while I give your clothes to the chambermaids to wash.  We can burn them once we find you some new clothes.”

“Thank you, sir,” Mai said.  She started to undress right in front of him.  Mariko caught her arm and dragged her towards the bathroom, hoping desperately that Lord Fitzgerald hadn't wanted a show.  The guards had made it clear that slaves had no rights.  Even the customary legal protections accorded to indents, protections that were often simply ignored, didn't apply to people sentenced to involuntary servitude.  “Mariko...”

“We’re not safe yet,” Mariko hissed at her sister, the moment she closed the bathroom door behind them.  “We don’t know what he wants, remember?”

She sighed as Mai finished undressing and stepped into the shower.  Her sister was beautiful, her body showing hints of a more mature beauty to come when she finally grew up, yet she was now nothing more than a slave.  And even though she wasn't a slave to Carlos, she had little hope of escape.  Lord Fitzgerald could use them in any way he wanted and they would have no grounds to complain.  Maybe she ought to offer to do anything he wanted, provided only that he left her sister alone.  But why would he even consider making such a bargain?

Water splashed down over her as she joined her sister in the shower, using one of the sponges provided to scrub herself thoroughly.  Dirt and grime seemed to cascade off her body, revealing a handful of bruises from where the guards had beaten her before they tried to rape her.  Maybe Mai was right to think of Lord Fitzgerald as a kind of Prince Charming.  He’d saved them from being raped
and
he’d asked about their piloting licences, not about how good they might be in bed.  Maybe they’d find that he wasn't anything like as bad as Carlos. 

Of course, that wouldn't be so difficult
, she thought wryly.

***

One hour later, wearing clothes that had been cleaned by the chambermaids, they took a taxi into the richest part of Dorado City.  Mariko had been entranced the first time she’d seen the city, but looking on it with vastly more cynical eyes she could see the gulf between rich and poor on the planet.  There were fancy shops and restaurants for the wealthy, while the poor had to use tiny shops and small eateries set up in various alleyways.  Hundreds of youths, mainly human males, wandered about aimlessly, deprived of anything productive to do with their time.  The few aliens in the city kept themselves to themselves.  If Edo, one of the more cosmopolitan planets in the Imperium, had been able to give birth to anti-alien riots, what would it be like on a poor planet that had little hope for the future?  Carlos’s father probably used aliens as an excuse for the planet’s poor economic performance.

She frowned as she caught sight of a small convoy of vehicles passing through the town ahead of her.  Policemen surrounded it, keeping the crowds back and glaring about them at anyone who seemed likely to shout abuse or hurl things.  One of the local bosses, Mariko decided, moving from place to place with a police escort.  They clearly knew that their position was vulnerable; there was no reason why an uprising couldn't succeed in bringing down their government.  But then, why would they tolerate someone like Carlos?  They had to know that sheltering a rapist wouldn’t make them popular.

But it isn't about popularity
, she thought, wishing that she’d had that insight before they’d even landed on the planet. 
It’s about power
.

The taxi stopped outside a mall and a uniformed man stepped forward, clearly hoping for a tip in exchange for helping them with their shopping.  Lord Fitzgerald dismissed him and led the way into the huge shopping mall, a building that seemed to be almost deserted.  Mariko couldn't understand how it was profitable; one look at the price for a new handbag almost made her faint.  Only the very wealthiest of the planet’s population could afford to buy coats imported from the Core Worlds, or bags made out of skinned animals from a dozen worlds across the galaxy.  The rest of the planet’s population would consider it nothing more than a mocking reminder of their own poverty.