She still didn't know what she would do in the long term. She had no way to explain what had happened to him; no way to dispose of the body.
She took a long shower, washing every trace of blood from her body. Then she scrubbed her clothes out in the sink. Strange, she wasn't very tired. Must be the adrenaline…She was shaky, though. It was going to be a long cycle.
* * * * *
Jess and Bragan had been up for more than an hour by the time they heard Bethany arrive with the first food cart. Both men were tense. Today was the day. Whether they would live as free men or die as slaves would be decided in the next few hours. Logan and Jess had briefed their men the night before.
Everything was ready. Now they sat, chatting anxiously and waiting to be let out for the cycle.
Usually she opened the store room for the cycle as soon as she arrived with the first food cart.
Today she didn't, and Jess looked at Bragan questioningly. Had she somehow guessed what they were going to do? Would they be greeted by guards instead of Bethany that morning?
By the time she came back with the second cart, Jess was getting restless.
"Go and knock on the door," he told Bragan. "Find out why she hasn't let us out. I'll stay here on the pallet looking sick."
Bragan nodded, and made his way over to the door. He knocked, softly at first, and then harder.
"Bethany?" he called out. "Are you there? Are you going to let us out to eat?"
A second later the door opened and Jess smothered a gasp of surprise at the sight of her. She looked horrible…Her face was drawn and white with stress. Her hands shook, and she seemed unable to look directly at either of them.
"What's the matter with you?" he asked without thinking, his voice sounding stronger than it had in weeks. She jumped, startled. Jess cursed silently; she wasn't used to hearing him talk that way.
"My father was sick during the last cycle," she said. She held her hands tightly together, as if to keep them from shaking.
It was obvious that something was very wrong.
"I didn't get much sleep," she continued.
"I see," Bragan said. "What kind of illness is it? Have you called the station medic?"
"No," she said quickly. "I think he had too much bakrah . I don't have time to talk about it right now; I need to get the last cart."
She turned and moved away from them quickly. Bragan and Jess exchanged glances.
"I wonder what's going on?" Bragan asked. "I doubt the station's medic could help, anyway. The man has almost no training. They're fools to trust him with their health."
"What, you haven't volunteered to help them?" Jess asked with dark humor.
"They wouldn't let me touch them," Bragan said with a laugh. "I'm good enough for my fellow slaves, but I guess they consider my techniques unclean or something. Ignorant fools."
"I suppose they get what's coming to them," Jess said.
"Does any woman really deserve to die in childbirth?" Bragan asked, some of the humor fading from his voice. "You asked how I earned my alcohol. Sometimes I do help them. Their fool of a medic has called me several times to try and salvage his mistakes. He usually waits too long, though. I've seen a lot of young Pilgrim girls die since I've come here."
Jess didn't reply; there was nothing he could say. Bragan's pain spoke for itself.
"After tonight you won't have to do that anymore," Jess said finally. "We'll escape or we'll die. Either way it will be over."
"Thank the Goddess for that," Bragan said. "I'm ready for it to be over."
* * * * *
It took every bit of strength Bethany had to keep moving. She had worked only half way through the cycle, but she felt exhausted. The guards had just changed shifts, and she still had no idea how she was going to get rid of her father's body, let alone what she would say about his disappearance. They wouldn't believe he was sick forever… Perhaps she could say he got drunk and decided to take one of the ships out. If she managed to launch one of the smaller transports and
She took a long shower, washing every trace of blood from her body. Then she scrubbed her clothes out in the sink. Strange, she wasn't very tired. Must be the adrenaline…She was shaky, though. It was going to be a long cycle.
* * * * *
Jess and Bragan had been up for more than an hour by the time they heard Bethany arrive with the first food cart. Both men were tense. Today was the day. Whether they would live as free men or die as slaves would be decided in the next few hours. Logan and Jess had briefed their men the night before.
Everything was ready. Now they sat, chatting anxiously and waiting to be let out for the cycle.
Usually she opened the store room for the cycle as soon as she arrived with the first food cart.
Today she didn't, and Jess looked at Bragan questioningly. Had she somehow guessed what they were going to do? Would they be greeted by guards instead of Bethany that morning?
By the time she came back with the second cart, Jess was getting restless.
"Go and knock on the door," he told Bragan. "Find out why she hasn't let us out. I'll stay here on the pallet looking sick."
Bragan nodded, and made his way over to the door. He knocked, softly at first, and then harder.
"Bethany?" he called out. "Are you there? Are you going to let us out to eat?"
A second later the door opened and Jess smothered a gasp of surprise at the sight of her. She looked horrible…Her face was drawn and white with stress. Her hands shook, and she seemed unable to look directly at either of them.
"What's the matter with you?" he asked without thinking, his voice sounding stronger than it had in weeks. She jumped, startled. Jess cursed silently; she wasn't used to hearing him talk that way.
"My father was sick during the last cycle," she said. She held her hands tightly together, as if to keep them from shaking.
It was obvious that something was very wrong.
"I didn't get much sleep," she continued.
"I see," Bragan said. "What kind of illness is it? Have you called the station medic?"
"No," she said quickly. "I think he had too much bakrah . I don't have time to talk about it right now; I need to get the last cart."
She turned and moved away from them quickly. Bragan and Jess exchanged glances.
"I wonder what's going on?" Bragan asked. "I doubt the station's medic could help, anyway. The man has almost no training. They're fools to trust him with their health."
"What, you haven't volunteered to help them?" Jess asked with dark humor.
"They wouldn't let me touch them," Bragan said with a laugh. "I'm good enough for my fellow slaves, but I guess they consider my techniques unclean or something. Ignorant fools."
"I suppose they get what's coming to them," Jess said.
"Does any woman really deserve to die in childbirth?" Bragan asked, some of the humor fading from his voice. "You asked how I earned my alcohol. Sometimes I do help them. Their fool of a medic has called me several times to try and salvage his mistakes. He usually waits too long, though. I've seen a lot of young Pilgrim girls die since I've come here."
Jess didn't reply; there was nothing he could say. Bragan's pain spoke for itself.
"After tonight you won't have to do that anymore," Jess said finally. "We'll escape or we'll die. Either way it will be over."
"Thank the Goddess for that," Bragan said. "I'm ready for it to be over."
* * * * *
It took every bit of strength Bethany had to keep moving. She had worked only half way through the cycle, but she felt exhausted. The guards had just changed shifts, and she still had no idea how she was going to get rid of her father's body, let alone what she would say about his disappearance. They wouldn't believe he was sick forever… Perhaps she could say he got drunk and decided to take one of the ships out. If she managed to launch one of the smaller transports and
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