ISBN 1-58873-094-8
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Copyright ©2002-2011 Patricia Green
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A Renaissance E Books publication
2120 CE
The captives looked at each other with varying degrees of fear, fight, and surrender. Nina held her chin up. She didn’t know what this was about, but she’d be damned if she would just go like a lamb to the slaughter.
They were led out of the ship and into the spaceport very briefly. Nina didn’t recognize the small port, which was no surprise to her as she hadn’t been off Earth in six years, and then only to Mars. There was an L inside a circle on several walls, but that didn’t mean anything to her either. It was probably a private port for some rich jerk. They went through a set of double doors and down a long white hallway.
Several uniformed people passed the group, but they spared not a single glance at the captives.
The group turned left and went up a small ramp, then through a door with a guard stiffly serving sentry duty. This one did look over the captives, smiled and nodded at the sergeant. "Last one for the day, Sarge," he commented.
"I’m just glad we made it in time," the sergeant replied, following the prisoners into the large, sterile white room.
"Let’s clean ’em up," the sergeant ordered. "But hurry it up. We’re running late."
The guards pointed their stunners at the captives and the group marched through the only open door. There were three big sonic showers on one wall, a mirror, mesh box of grooming implements, and two toilets on another. There was another door, but it was closed and the sergeant moved immediately to stand in front of it - obviously another exit. The door from the hall was closed and locked behind them.
"This is one of my favorite parts," the sergeant said to a guard nearby. "Catch the looks on their faces." He turned to the prisoners authoritatively. "Strip. Now!"
Nina and the other captives looked around in confusion. One of the women, a svelte red-head, said, "Go to hell!" Nina crossed her arms over her chest in defiant solidarity.
The sergeant sighed melodramatically. "If that’s how you want it." He nodded to two guards and they moved forward to take the red-haired woman’s arms while another guard systematically tore her clothes off as she screamed, cursed, and kicked. Any other captive who made a move to help her was threatened summarily with a stunner. Once the woman was nude, the guards held her in place while the sergeant approached.
"Disobedience will be punished. Best you remember that, bitch," he said. Without warning, he delivered a sharp, stinging smack with his riding crop to each of the woman’s light pink nipples. She screamed and began to cry, first arching in agony, then sagging in the guards’ hold. Her nipples turned crimson as a weal of bright red striped across them.
The sergeant stepped back. "I hope you all understand. Now strip."
The guards threw the sagging woman into a sonic shower while the rest of the prisoners disrobed hastily. Nina was directed into the shower with the red-haired woman, and the other showers were filled with sets of two prisoners as well. The captive men stood nearby, apparently waiting their turn.
After the sonic pulse had done its job, the prisoners were ordered out and over to the grooming area. "If you have to pee, go now," the sergeant commanded. "You won’t get another chance for several hours."
Although they felt like dogs before their masters, most of the prisoners took the opportunity to use the toilets, all thoughtfully looking away from each other as they did so. It was a small consolation to modesty.
They were commanded to groom, using deodorant wands and hair brushes as necessary. The sergeant nodded with pleasure as he inspected them when they were done. As he walked by each, he waved a medical scanner over them.
He stopped before a whip-thin young man with dark hair and eyes, looking him over carefully. "Martial arts?" he asked succinctly, nodding at the man’s taut biceps.
"Yes," the man replied quietly.
"Too bad," said the sergeant. "Too dangerous. You’ll probably end up as field labor, whereas you might have been in a household if you were just buff. Of course, there’s always the possibility that some old fart will be looking for a new boy-toy." He laughed heartily.
The man tensed. "You can’t just keep us like this. This is kidnapping! You’ll be caught and sent to jail, you know!"
The sergeant smiled. "Don’t be an imbecile. No one knows where you are. We don’t plan to ask for a ransom. After a while it’ll be too much bureaucratic annoyance to pursue you. You might as well just get used to your new role in life." He moved along the line. "You’re slaves. All of you. Deal with it."
The other male captive was scanned and the sergeant frowned. "You’ve got a sex disease."
The man went pale. "No…I don’t. I couldn’t have."
The sergeant snorted. "The scanner doesn’t lie, bud." He turned to the nearest guard. "This one’s useless."
Without even a blink of hesitation, the guard changed the setting on his stunner and shot the captive. The man fell heavily to the floor. The big burn on his chest and smell of charred flesh made it clear that he was dead.
The red-haired woman and one other began to sob, but the sergeant paid them no mind, moving down the line to Nina. He looked her up and down carefully. "This one’s the cream of the crop," he said to the guard nearby. "Collar and cuffs even match," he pointed out, referring to her blonde pubic hair and the blonde curls trailing down her back. He reached out to touch her breast and she flinched away, growling under her breath. "Feisty, too, but not stupid," he said, as though she was an object rather than a person. His eyes caught her furious blue ones. "Let me give you a little bit of advice, Blondie," he said with a smirk. "Don’t flinch away from the buyers. Growl if you must - they’ll like that some - but let ’em touch. If you don’t, you’re useless. They’ll give you to the troops to use and you’ll be dead in a week … or wish you were."
"Move ’em out," he ordered, and the guards prodded the prisoners forward as the sergeant opened the exit door. The exit led to another wide, brightly lit, white hallway where they were ordered to stand against the wall. A tram drove by, its single open car holding a group of ten nude men and eight guards. Nina didn’t get a very good look, but she thought she’d seen that some of the men were bruised and black-eyed, as though they’d had to learn their place the hard way.
The next tram was empty, and Nina’s group was ordered to board and sit down quietly. The guards boarded as well, their stunners pointed casually at the prisoners.
It was about a five-minute ride, Nina estimated, through the tramway, and the air got progressively colder as they went. Her nipples peaked, as did everyone else’s, and soon they were hugging themselves and rubbing their naked arms to try and keep warm. The guards, of course, were perfectly comfortable in their navy blue uniforms and caps.
When the tram stopped they were each ordered to debark, and a green plastic anklet was attached to their left ankles. Then they were split up. The male captive was taken in one direction and the women another. Although they hadn’t gotten to know each other, it sent a murmur of fright through the women around Nina to have had part of the group split off.
The room the women were brought to was just as white and featureless as all the other rooms so far, but it did have some twenty other women present. There were no chairs, so they sat around on the floor as best they could, generally trying to sit modestly though all were naked except for the plastic anklets of various colors.
Of the twenty-five women, Nina counted ten with green anklets, six with yellow, six with blue, and three with pink. She looked at her anklet carefully and read the small print: "Excelsior Group." She made a mental note of the printing on the other anklets she could see as well. It might come in handy.
Although it was cold in the room, the body heat of all those women in a small space made it bearable. Soon enough, a guard opened the door at the far end and called the pink group out. The rest of the women went absolutely silent, wondering what the fate of the pink ankleted women might be, and their own fate as their color was called.
They waited about half-an-hour before the door opened again. "Green," the guard called, and ten women stood up. He turned to consult with a superior just outside the door. "Too many in Excelsior. Want me to split ’em up?" Nina heard a muffled "no," and the guard nodded, turning back into the room. "Come on, Green, let’s get movin’."
The ten women were led in a single-file line out into a noisy auditorium. They each tried to cover themselves with their hands for modesty but, of course, it was of little help. The auditorium was smoky with tobacco and other weeds, making the number of persons present hard to estimate. Still, Nina thought maybe there were two hundred in the theatre-in-the-round style room. The women prisoners went up three stairs and onto a stage in the middle of the audience. There were guards positioned solidly around the bottom of the stage. The lights were harsh on the prisoners, making the audience impossible to see clearly. The women crowded together on the little platform and the auction began.
Will Nina be sold as a slave? To whom? Can she escape and will she want to? To find out more, buy the eBook from Renaissance E Books (many formats) or in Kindle format at Amazon.com.