Calypso Slaves - Ghost Story

"It's okay, Lily," Cassie said, "I get it. You don't have to say it out loud."

"I haven't changed my mind," Lily said, "I just don't want to fight about it. Can we still be friends?"

"Of course," Cassie said.

"I'm sorry, Cassie. I...I have to say it out loud. I'm sorry," Lily said.

"It's alright," Cassie said. Which was mostly true, because she wasn't going to hold Lily's addiction against her. But it was not true in that Lily was still addicted to drugs, and Cassie was not okay with that.

Cassie wasn't sure if her muscles were getting tougher or if she'd just gotten used to the permanently tired feeling she had. She began to let the analytical portion of her brain back out again, now that the facts were a bit more comfortable. Maybe the reason the whip pulled so much extra effort out of her early on was just because she never knew what her limits actually were before? She was still whipped, of course, but it didn't happen so often anymore, and only with the crop.

When the lunch elevator arrived that day, the admin slaves didn't open up the crate immediately, and they'd arrived with no less than four guards. There was a second crate with them containing dozens of sets of manacles. Were they stepping up the restraints again? Had there been a riot on the upper decks?

The guards took each of the slaves from the line and chained their wrists to the whipping rings, and attached their ankle chains to rings lining the edge of the floor. Cassie was silent as the guards chained her wrists and ankles to the corridor, and fidgeted in the chains as they went on down the line, chaining up everyone. Her arms were beginning to get sore from the strain, on top of the sort of perpetual soreness they suffered from her labor, when the guards started coming back up the line, tugging the chains to make sure they're tight. When they got back to the elevator, they finished by chaining up the two admin slaves to the last pair of rings in the corridor, then strapped down the crates. Something in their suits hummed to life and Cassie heard one of them call in "all secure."

Cassie felt a rising lightness in her stomach, like moving in an elevator. She nearly giggled as her body grew lighter and finally came off the ground entirely. Somewhere down the line one of the other slaves actually did giggle, and that nearly set Cassie off, but she swallowed it for fear of showing weakness. The hallway began to shift, tugging her along by her chains, the guards rooted into place by magnetic boots. With a thunderous noise, the ship locked itself into some new configuration which seemed, to Cassie, mostly the same as the old one, but she was familiar enough with the Volov class to know what was happening. It was locking itself into ring mode, to maintain gravity while docked to an asteroid. And once the ring started spinning, she slid back down to the ground. Held in place by her chains, she only had a few inches to fall.

After the gravity returned to normal, the guards unlocked their boots, and then went down the corridor, unlocking all the slaves from their chains, starting with the admin slaves, who unstrapped the crate from the ground and began handing out food.

Cassie took her meal bar to her cell to eat like normal. All three of her cellmates, sans the perpetually absent Andraste, were there. Lily was opening up Tanirt's meal bar to apologetically feed it to her, but Tanirt flinched away and manically tugged at her shackles and cuffs, moaning with frustration. Lily backed away from her as she thrashed. After a few seconds, Tanirt finally stopped, halfway curling into a ball on her bed, eyes squeezed shut. Cassie suspected she was trying not to cry.

"Are you okay?" Cassie asked.

"No!" Tanirt said, giving her cuffs another tug, "I just...It's nothing. I'm fine." She pulled herself back to sit up, taking in a deep breath.

Cassie glanced towards Giovanna, who was watching with what barely qualified as interest. Turning back to Tanirt, Cassie crossed the cell to sit on the bed next to her and whisper "are you sure? If you need to talk, I swear I won't tell a soul what you tell me. No matter what it is." Tanirt looked to Cassie, opened her mouth to say something, closed it, looked away, looked back to Cassie. "Not the guards, not even Lily," Cassie said, "if it's a secret, I'll keep it. I'm a witch. I'm good at keeping secrets."

"Why won't they let me out?" Tanirt asked quietly, "what did they buy me for if they don't want me to work?"

"I don't know," Cassie said, "I can try to find out."

"How?" Tanirt asked.

"The guards know," Cassie said, and then thought about it. The first time she was whipped, the guard knew Lily was a chemist. When she and Lily were caught sneaking into the locked module, the guard put out some kind of bulletin. The guards knew, and they knew because the information was stored on a network and delivered, probably to their helmets. Maybe Cassie could convince a guard to tell her what the network had on Tanirt. Failing that, Giovanna could hack into that network if Cassie could find something she wanted badly enough to justify the risk. "I can at least try."

It took Tanirt about five seconds solid to figure out what to say next. "Thanks," she said, finally. "Can...Can you tell Lily I...Like it when she talks to me. It helps, a little. And, that I'm sorry. I didn't mean to freak out on her." Cassie glanced across the cell. Lily was still there, watching the two. She might have even overheard already. But Cassie guessed it was easier for Tanirt to relay the message to someone she was already talking to than start a conversation.

"I'll tell her," Cassie said.

She got up from the bed, walked to Lily, and whispered the information to her. Lily nodded. "I heard," she whispered back, "I hope they let her out soon."

At the end of lunch, Cassie and Lily headed back towards the workshop with the other slaves. The workshop was adjacent to their cellblock, now, whereas before they'd had to walk through the mining bay to reach it. Cassie made a mental note to check if they could still reach the mining bay, and also to absolutely not open any more locked doors, since the mining bay's airlocks could be open to the void now. In retrospect they should've thought about that when opening the sealed door with Lily the other day.

Lt. Mira picked Cassie out of the crowd at the entrance to the workshop. "Come with me, cunt," she said, grabbing her by the shoulder.

"Yes, ma'am," Cassie said. Once Mira had pulled Cassie from the line, she cuffed her hands to her chain. Cassie's first assumption was that she was going to be punished, but she wasn't sure why. Did they find out about her illicit sex? But Mira was leading Cassie out of the workshop and down the cellblock, not to the whipping post.

Question and objections swam through Cassie's head, but she kept quiet as Mira tugged her inside the elevator and it started to life, moving up the side of the ring. She watched the floor indicator blink upwards until it reached the third highest deck. The doors slid open. This part of the ship was much nicer. The floors weren't pristine, but they suffered only from scuff marks upon their otherwise white and rounded surfaces, rather than harsh grates that were torn and blackened. The lights didn't flicker or spark and none of them were torn from their berths, still awaiting replacement.

Everyone here also had clothes, mostly what looked like officers' uniforms and lots of the armored support suits, but usually with the helmet popped off. Occasionally Cassie saw an admin slave and once she even saw what looked like a mechanical slave, but for the most part the halls were occupied by guards and other staff. Cassie's shame over her naked body was renewed now that she was alone in her exposure. The others' eyes slid right over her, but she shrank back and tried to make herself as small as possible while Mira dragged her along the corridor by her arm.

This module was centered on a large meeting room, surrounded on all sides by windows that faced out into a corridor. The corridor that encircled the room was a hub, with couches in front of large screens where staff watched television or played games, and corridors branching off in all directions with those on duty walking through, alone or in groups, on their way from one section of the office to another. Mira took Cassie inside the office, which was dominated by a large, circular table surrounded by tall, dark chairs, and a few low-backed couches at the edges. Mira uncuffed Cassie's hands just long enough to chain them to a ring over her head, just back and to the left of one of the large, leather chairs surrounding the table. When Mira closed the door behind her, the sound was cut out entirely. Cassie could see the people outside, and they could see her, but she could hear nothing.

Cassie closed her eyes and tried to pretend she wasn't here, not where two dozen people could see her, tried to forget what she'd just seen. All those people, watching shows like she used to. Playing games like she used to. If she weren't chained to the ceiling she thought she might run out and demand they all stop, stop doing it just while Cassie was here, stop reminding her of everything she'd lost. It wasn't so bad when she didn't think about how her life used to be. With her eyes squeezed shut, she could imagine she was still on the bottom deck, that the entire world was the bottom deck and her entire life had been on the bottom deck. Down there where there were just a dozen or so guards who stood watch and a hundred naked slaves. Where even if it was hard, at least everyone was treated the same. All she had to do was ignore the soft, dark blue carpet under her feet and it was almost like she was back down there, where it wasn't so bad.

Cassie could hear the door open again, and the bustle was audible for just a second before it was cut off. She didn't open her eyes. She wasn't sure who'd come in, but she hoped that whoever it was, they just wanted to talk to her, or show her off, or something else that didn't require her to open her eyes and see all those people again.

"I've shut the blinds," a deep voice said, "you can open your eyes now, Cassie." Cassie opened one eye a crack. The windows were blackened, the table lit from above, the edges of the room now covered in shadows. The owner of the voice was a man who would tower over Tanirt the way she towered over Cassie, wearing an officer's uniform and carrying a lockbox about the size of a briefcase, slanted in front. The same sort they used to lock up Cassie's clothes, possibly the exact same one. The man walked over to Cassie and released her from her cuffs. She rubbed her wrists and looked at the floor.

"I am Commander Enlil," the man said, placing the lockbox on the table and taking a seat, "this is my ship."

"It's nice to meet you, sir," Cassie said. She didn't know what else to say.

"No it isn't," Enlil said, "you're angry and upset. Get it out of your system."

Cassie's mind swam for a few moments. Should she speak? Should she pretend she wasn't angry, or even hateful? Was this some sort of test, and if so, how was she supposed to pass it? But after a few moments of opening and closing her mouth without saying anything, mind racing, her thoughts were drowned by the rising tide of her emotions. "I didn't do anything wrong," she said. "I should be back home. I should be watching television and playing games and going to class and living a life. No one ever got hurt because of me!"

Cassie took a step towards an empty chair and gripped the leather. Everything she'd tried to ignore was coming up like vomit. "The food here is barely edible and if I work myself to the bone every day all I get is less whippings. Less, not even none. And every time I stick a toe out of line you rip my back apart with the big whip and the guards treat me like dirt and it's never going to end, for what? So you can line your pockets? Because you can't be fucked to pay the startup capital to convert to full automation? Because the red tape for a Bradbury to run it all is thicker than for the slave market? You make me and hundreds of others suffer for years because automating is a fucking inconvenience?"

She shoved the chair away. "Why don't you and your guards take a whipping and see what it feels like? Why don't you try a few days of slave labor? I hope someday you get worked to death in a grime-covered pit wondering if today's gonna be the day some psycho tries to rip your head off and how badly you'll get whipped for fighting back while I sip lattes four decks above! That'd be real justice, not this fucked up atrocity you built your entire fucking life on!"

She took in a few deep breaths, and then finally sank to her knees, exhausted. With the rage expelled, her fear set back in. Cassie wondered if Enlil was going to punish her. "I wanna go home," she said with a sob.

"I'm sorry for what you've been through," Enlil said.

"Sorry? You're sorry?" Cassie said, looking up towards him, her voice low and bitter, "you're the one who did this to me."

Cassie glared at him, and he looked back, neutral-faced. Waiting. When she didn't continue for a few seconds, he said "yes, I'm sorry for what's happened to you, Cassie. This meeting should've happened two weeks ago, when you first arrived. Unfortunately, I and my entire command staff were busy on the planet's surface tending to urgent matters. Please trust me when I say they were more urgent than the suffering of just one person."

Cassie spent another few seconds opening and closing her mouth without saying anything, grappling with an entirely new set of questions. "What's this meeting for?" she asked, too scared to be hopeful.

"I'll start by offering an explanation," Enlil said, "you deserve one. There are people who are dangerous to those around them. They are manipulative or physically violent. It's never been controversial to say that something must be done to prevent these people from hurting the innocent. It's not even very controversial to say they should be prevented from hurting each other. But for millennia there has been debate about what to do with these people. I think they need to be reformed. Remolded. That they can be built into better people."

"You believe in rehabilitative justice," Cassie said, returning to her feet, eyes still locked on the floor, and she caught a sarcastic retort in her throat. Enlil was being at least a little kind. Rebuking that kindness could anger him.

But Enlil said "say it."

So Cassie sucked in a breath and raised her eyes to look at his. "You could've fooled me," she said.

"People rarely change their minds about anything after a chat over coffee, let alone accept culpability for being an accessory to murder or worse. In order to build a new worldview the old one must be broken down, and yes, that breaking down process is ugly, but that doesn't mean it is never justified," Enlil said.

"Do you really think that forced labor is going to reform people?" Cassie said, trying to thread the needle between speaking her objections and not provoking Enlil to anger. "I just...It doesn't have a very good track record," she finished.

"Breaking people down is only the first step of the process," Enlil said, "the first thing I do is teach them obedience. The last thing I do is teach them to forget the first thing. In the meantime, I'd like to be able to give them a dinner fork without worrying they'll stab someone with it. Unfortunately, my resources are limited, and recently they've been stretched past their breaking point. You've seen how damaged the lower decks are compared to this one, and I believe Lt. Mira has explained to you the reason. Lately I do not even have enough resources to keep the slaves safe from each other, let alone conduct the laborious process of trying to reform them," Enlil said. "But you do not require reform. Your actions were stupid, reckless, and irresponsible," Cassie flinched at the sudden edge in his voice, "but not malicious. A simple explanation of the dangers of Naraka should, I hope, be enough to deter reckless experimentation with them in the future."

Enlil sighed. "I'm not angry at you, Cassie. Or at least, I shouldn't be. The Dominion kept from you the information you needed to act with wisdom. Your recklessness was an entirely predictable response to your situation. You are only technically a criminal. You didn't do anything wrong. You don't deserve this. And I'm going to offer you a way out of it, as much as I can."

"What?" Cassie asked. Her first thought was that this couldn't possibly be real.

"I can't overturn your sentence, nor help you evade it. Not won't, can't. But so long as you're on this ship, no one in the government has to know whether you're slave or staff," he popped open the locker. And as she'd guessed earlier, it was hers. Her shirt and pants were folded up inside, and a new pair of shoes had been added, with socks tucked inside them, and a pistol laid across them.

Cassie nearly leapt onto the clothes and pulled them over herself on the spot, but a lingering fear, both that the offer was a trap and that if it was real Enlil might change his mind if she was too eager, kept her in place. "That's it? You're just offering me a staff job?"

"You never should've been arrested. There is a catch, however. Less a catch and more an inherent consequence I'd ask you to consider, lest you do something you'll regret," Enlil said.

"What's that?" Cassie asked.

"If you are staff, you are not a slave," Enlil said, "you are going to interact with the slaves on a semi-regular basis, and when you do, you are going to maintain professional dispassion for them. The most critical rule of the staff is that the rules and punishments are unyielding. We don't take pity, we don't act in anger, and we don't play favorites. You are not going to have any friends among the slaves, no matter how much you think they need it."

"Lily," Cassie said.

Enlil nodded. "Now make no mistake, Cassie. Liliyana Cortez is a murderer. She is a drug addict who takes assassination contracts on anyone and everyone to sate her addiction. She isn't assassinating gang and police targets exclusively. She kills honest small business owners because their rivals don't like the competition. She kills people trying to expose corporate abuse to the masses because that's cheaper than prosecuting them for industrial espionage. She kills the children of powerful people to send a message that nothing is safe. I know you two get along. She has a long history of manipulating people to finish a job, but that doesn't mean her friendship with you isn't genuine. But she will do anything to get a fix. She could jeopardize -- or just end -- the lives of any number of my subordinates if I were to let her go. If you come, you leave her behind, not because you're selfish, but because she can't follow you. And that's her fault, not yours. You don't owe her anything."

Cassie's breath quickened, she felt a sinking feeling in her gut. Without her, Lily was going to end up as Giovanna's drug bitch. Or maybe someone worse. Depending on how Lily shook out, Tanirt might end up going completely insane. "Lily needs help," Cassie said, "I-I don't just mean a friend, I mean if you want to reform her, you need to help her kick this habit."

"And I may or may not have the resources to do that this week or the next or the one after. It will likely be months before I'm in any position to run a detox program," Enlil said. "By all means, give me full information on the problem and I will try to solve it, after you've made your choice."

"Can't I just stay for a few weeks, though? While she's getting through it?" Cassie asked.