Ensnared Bride (3 page)

Monica was woken by Javintore
’s footfalls in the room.
 
She sat up and watched him.
 
He probably was going to have sex with her now.
 
Would it really be so awful?
 
After how she’d been cared for she felt like she had to cooperate with whatever he wanted.
 

He caught sight of her.
 
Monica slid her legs off the bed to stand up.
 
He lifted his hand to stop her.
 

“Stay there.”

Her lips parted, but she was unsure of what to say.

“You don’t get to sleep in my bed until I’m sure you’re not going to try to kill me.”

Oh.
 
The accusation made her stomach feel like it dropped a few inches.

He took off his shoulder mantle.
 
“I had to prepare for this mission we’re headed to.”
 
He took off his pants.
 
Beneath it were tight black underpants.
 
The silk sheened over his buttocks.
 
“I’ve done all I can until we get there.
 
I’ll be able to pay more attention to you tomorrow.”
 
He climbed onto his bed.

Once reclining back with his muscular arms propped behind his head, he looked at her.
 
Monica was still sitting up on the bench facing him.
 
She wondered if she was supposed to avert her eyes from his chiseled red/purple body.
 
At least she was able to make eye-contact.

“Are you managing?” he said.

She nodded.

He looked away.
 
“Don’t talk much, is that it?”

“Thank you.”

He eyed her.

“For getting me out of there.
 
For letting me…”
 
She paused to wet her lips.
 

No, she didn
’t talk much.
 
Talking was a zap of the tr’sark.
 
Even if she believed he wasn’t going to shock her she still didn’t trust him.
 

Monica cleared her throat.
 
“Thank you for everything.”

The smile that formed on his face now was less sinister than before.
 
He bowed his head in acknowledgment.
 
Then he rolled so his muscular back was to her.

“
Gee-shoo.
”

His Hax-Rah command caused the lights in the room to dull to a faint bluish glow.
 

Monica went back to sleep.
 

In the morning she lolled between sleep and wakefulness a few moments.
 
She thought she was back on her cot at the slave bunker.
 
Her blanket was flung off her with a jolt.
 
She had to get to her workstation.
 
If she didn
’t make her quota she was going to be—

The large shouldered robot loomed beside her bed in perfect silence.
 
It might have been something from her nightmares once, but in her current circumstances it calmed her.
 

Of course—she was no longer in that living hell.
 
She wanted to be happy, but dread still twisted in her insides.
 
She couldn
’t shake this.

She sat up and saw that Javintore
’s bed was empty.
 

“The Mek-lord felt it best that you sleep in, since he knows of the exhaustion you are recovering from.”

“Oh.”
 

“It’s time for you to take food again.”

Now a tendril of bliss managed to sweep through her chest.
 
Yes, food.
 
Wonderful food.

The breakfast was more ample than her previous two meals.
 
Monica was no longer inclined to gorge herself.
 
She tried to eat the way she had before the invasion, using the pronged utensil provided and chewing leisurely before swallowing.
 

That
’s what I need to do.
 
Try and find the old Monica.

“More garments are being created for you.
 
I will provide them when they are ready.”

“Thank you.”
 
That
’s right…the old Monica used to change her clothes every day.
 

Javintore came out of the elevator.
 
He was wearing a more Earth-like ensemble than before: a close-fitting gray shirt that stretched over his large pectorals and long black pants.
 

“Good.
 
You’re awake.”
 
He stepped down the short stairs.
 
“I had to see to a few things.”

He came to the table and looked her over.
 
“Does the food suit you?”

Monica fidgeted with the utensil.
 
“It’s amazing.”

Javintore took the seat across from her.
 
“Hunger is the greatest seasoning.
 
It makes no sense to me.
 
How can you be productive if they don’t feed you enough?”

She pursed her lips.

“I’d want to kill us too, if I were you.”

“If…you feel bad for us, then why do you treat us like that?”

“I’m not the typical Hax-Rah.”

She looked.
 

“You’ll come to understand that.”

Tell me.
 
She realized he
’d drawn her out of her life’s drama.
 
For a moment she stopped being a woman recovering from a slave bunker.
 
Curiosity shifted her focus to him.
 

He stood.
 
“Come.
 
I’ll show you some of the ship.”

Monica shoveled the last heaping bite of food in her mouth, and then washed it down with her punch.
 
She hopped up to follow him.
 

She was still unable to keep her footing in the elevator as it careened them through the ship.
 
Monica braced her body against the wall.
 
Javintore, like the robot, had no trouble standing.

“You tried to blow yourself up yesterday,” Javintore said.
 
“Do you still want to die?”

No, I fricking didn
’t!
 
She held her tongue.
 
Javintore thought she was someone different right now, someone with the courage to destroy herself just to kill two Hax-Rah in the process.
 
Would he respect her as much if he new she was just a cowardly slave struggling to get by without getting tr
’sark zaps?

“I don’t want to die,” she said.

Javintore glanced at her.

“I mean…”
 
She paused to clear her throat.
 
“Everything has been great so far, but, I just don’t think it’s going to stay that way.”

“Why not?
 
Tell me the truth—always tell me the truth.
 
That’s my first rule for you.
 
If you can’t tell the truth, then just be quiet instead of lying.”

She hesitated.
 
“You don’t expect me to trust you this soon into it.”

He tipped up his head in realization.
 
“No.
 
I don’t.”
 
Then he gave an rancorous laugh.
 

Monica looked at him.
 

“I don’t trust you either.”

Her shoulders rose and fell with a sigh.
 

“You’re going to prove yourself to me.”

Her eyes lifted toward him.

“I’m not interested in a war concubine who considers me a target.
 
I need someone I can trust.”

The second bit caused a pang deep in her middle.
 
There was a tremor in his lush baritone voice.
 
Something compelling.
 

The elevator opened to a metal grate bridge.
 
Javintore led her onto it.
 
They were in a room with as much floor space as the bay they
’d first landed in, but with a tiled ceiling only a few inches higher than Javintore’s head.
 
Below the bridge, and filling every foot of the floor, were the big-shouldered robots.
 
Thousands of them were
 
lined up too tightly to be able to move.
 
Their red eyes weren’t glowing.
 

Javintore gestured to the silent metal crowd.
 
“What you see here is almost fifty percent of the ship.
 
Not this floor, but floors like it.
 
There’s eighteen stories exactly like this one, filled to bursting with war-bots.”

“Oh,” Monica said softly.
 
She continued staring, but there really wasn’t much to see.
 
It was a massive robot storage room.

“The other ten floors you’ve basically already seen.
 
They’re filled with the drones that were in the landing bay.”

Monica looked at him while recalling the bomb covered ships in the bay.

“That’s it.
 
That’s my ship.”
 
He shrugged.
 
“Of course, there’s a control room, too.
 
Repair chutes.
 
An energy chamber.
 
A few other things.
 
But this is what I’m all about as Mek-lord.
 
I rule the robots and the drones.”

“What about a crew?”

He tipped his nose at the robots.
 
“My crew is made of robots.
 
We’re the only people on this ship.”

Monica
’s eyes widened.
 
“You were all by yourself?”

He bowed his head in affirmation.
 

She tried to wrap her mind around this.

Javintore headed back toward the elevator.
 
“Most Hax-Rah live for the joy of destroying an enemy.”
 
He pressed a panel to open the elevator door.
 
“I was more interested in what our slaves were doing.
 
The ones who built our ships and weapons.
 
Circuits, wires, transistors, microchips—that’s what fascinated me.”
 

He entered the elevator.
 
Monica braced herself against the wall again.

“But I won’t bore you with my history.”

“Are you kidding?”

His brows rose as he looked at her.

She recoiled after her outburst, but then forced herself to continue.
 
“I want to know about you.
 
Please.”

For a moment he was silent.
 
Then he said,
“Why?”

She grimaced with a squint of her eyes.
 
What—did he think she was a spy?
 
This was ridiculous.

She looked at him.
 
“I want to know because you took me as your war concubine, and I want to know what kind of man I’m with.”

His nod told her he was convinced.
 
“Mm.”

He took a deep breath and looked forward.
 
“A boy who’s not obsessed with fighting in our society is a…”
 
He lips curled in a sneer.
 
It dissolved after a moment.
 
“My caretaker abandoned me in a
Dandere
slave colony when I was six.
 
She said if I wanted to build robots then I might as well be a slave.
 
The Danderes make our battleships and weapons.
 
They
’re the best cared for and most autonomous slaves in the empire.
 
I was adopted by a master roboticist named Chutass.
 
He took me as his apprentice.”

The elevator opened to another bridge.
 
This time it was over a giant room full of the drones.
 
Monica followed Javintore out onto the grated walkway.
 
She stared at the black drones as he spoke.

“When I was old enough to be a soldier I was tracked down to be a
Hex-lord
by the High Command.
 
This is a position where I
’d be exiled to some miserable lonely outpost to do work no one else wanted.
 
But I’d made war-bots by the time they’d found me.
 
I was actually useful to the Empire.
 
Instead of exile I was giving a factory world and told to make them a million robot soldiers.
 
I was giving the title of Mek-lord, a made up rank just for me.
 
It was the highest honor a
Krish-kran
ever achieved.
”