Lost Colony Ch. 03

"Where did you learn to cook?" he asked. Sparr took another sip of the spirit. "Not around here. The temple food so far is amazing."

"They get me fresh ingredients," Silla said. "That's at least half of it." Again, the chef allowed herself a modest smile. "But no," she continued, "I learned at my mom's side. Grew up not that far from Shong."

"So you came here for work?"

Silla's face froze. "What?"

"To the temple." He had something wrong.

"No. No Alain. I'm a slave." Silla shook her head. "We all are. Where did you grow up?"

Sparr groaned inwardly at his own naivete. Every time he thought he had found a free person on Kaybe, he was proven depressingly wrong. "Earth," he said. Sparr had already learned that the name meant nothing to the inhabitants of the planet.

"That fairy tale?" Silla took another sip and pushed back some of the straight, black hair escaping her cap.

"Fairy tale?" It was Sparr's turn to be surprised. The chef had recognized the name.

"Well, of course if you believe it's real..." Silla smirked. She was toying with him.

"It's just that your version of the tale may be a bit different than the one I was raised with," he said. Sparr tried to remain outwardly calm, but scrambled for information. "I'd like to hear yours."

"I'm sure it's the same," Silla said. For a moment Sparr thought the chef would say no more, but perhaps sensing his earnestness, she continued. "For kids to behave, of course." She took a sip. "Stray too far and the Earthies will come and get you!" Silla playfully exaggerated the last part. "So, are you here to take me away?"

Sparr couldn't tell if Silla was flirting or just teasing him. Regardless, his attention was divided. The inhabitants of Kaybe, some of them at least, still remembered Earth. The home planet had at some point become vilified.

"It was the Urst that came and got me," Sparr said. There was no point in asking more questions about Earth.

Silla simply nodded, and for a moment the two drank in silence. Sparr once again considered how readily the men and women he had met seemed to accept slavery as an inescapable part of life. The temple had a few desultory guards, but those, Sparr suspected, were posted more to protect the temple wealth than to keep in the princes, maidens, cooks, and laborers.

"What are the scrolls that the priestess hands out?"

"The 'wisdom'?"

"Yeah, they're drugged, right?"

"Oh yes, very" Scilla said. "It's half an hour of bliss, of forgetfulness. You're not in the temple, you're not on the planet, you're not even you." Her face had a distant look. "They gave me one once, a reward for cooking all night for a temple feast that just wouldn't end. I knew immediately, if I ever had another one, I'd be addicted." She sat back. "Fortunately for me, the temple doesn't share them lightly."

"I saw some in town, at the arena." Sparr remembered the Governor offering one to Liette.

"Those?" Silla poured herself and Sparr another drink. "They're nothing compared to the ones the temple makes."

"The temple makes them?" Sparr wasn't sure why he was surprised; prostitution and drugs had long been partners.

"Yes, apparently the secret is known only to the priestesses."

"They make other drugs here, medicine maybe?"

"No, they... oh. You're asking about your friend, aren't you? The Olm."

"Yes, how did you-"

Silla cut him off. "Please," she said. "All gossip passes through the kitchen. Although, I think it's odd that he's your friend and you almost killed him."

"It's complicated," Sparr said. "They gave him the, uh, 'red draught'? Anyway, he almost killed me, too."

"Mmmm," she said. "Yeah, that'll turn a friend against you. And no, nothing that can actually heal the sick gets made anywhere in this town."

"Well shit. I really need that pack."

"What? What pack?"

"Oh," Sparr said. He hadn't meant to mention his supply pack. "A bag. I had it with me when I was captured by the Urst. Has some medicines in it."

Silla considered this. "The slavers usually hand over your personal possessions when you're sold. When Liette bought you, the Governor may have passed them along."

"Can I get them?"

"No chance," Silla said, shaking her head. "You'd have to convince her it was in her best interest, and I assure you trying to save your friend's life won't cut it." She rubbed her eyes. "I'm sorry, Alain."

***

"Play us a song then," Liette commanded.

The temple was only closed to supplicants one day per week. On those days, the priesthood, maidens, princes, and most of the other slaves gathered in the main hall for relaxation and entertainment. Wine was served, although, Sparr noticed, not of the same quality that Liette and her inner circle enjoyed. Some played games, some chatted, and a few who had the talent played music.

"Yes Liette." This came from a thickset man Sparr had noticed hauling supplies and cleaning. He was cradling an instrument which looked like a cross between a harp and a guitar. Fine strings spread from the top toward a broad, curved base, each string longer than the next. With surprisingly nimble fingers, the man began to pick out an unfamiliar, but catchy, tune. Several in the audience sang along, but the words were too jumbled for Sparr to make out. He followed it with another, equally upbeat tune before taking a break to sip wine.

Next, two of the princes performed an intricate, choreographed dance. Stripped to the waist, the pair circled, leapt, stomped, and spun. Another prince kept time with a tiny, garishly painted drum. Sparr couldn't help but admire their skill. If trained in combat instead of dance, either could have been a formidable fighter. When the whirlwind ended, the two stood panting and grinning, bowing as the room applauded.

"What about you, Animal?" Liette gazed at Sparr with a languid, possessive smile.

"Me?" The question caught him off guard. "Dancing? No."

"Singing?"

"No, I..." Something occurred to Sparr. "I can do magic."

"Oh?" Liette's expression was unreadable, but several in the room turned to look.

"Yes," he said, an idea blossoming in his mind. "Only, I don't have my magic kit. I think the Governor may have it."

"A bright sack with straps for your shoulders?" This from Kess, who seemed rarely to leave Liette's side. Once again, the girl's access to Liette worked in his favor.

"Yes!" Sparr said. "It has everything I need."

Liette and Kess spoke in hushed tones. More than once, Liette's eyes turned suspiciously to Sparr, but after a moment Kess scurried off eagerly. To Sparr's enormous relief, she returned holding his pack. With it, the odds of a successful escape would be improved immeasurably.

Liette peered into the stuffed pack. "What do you need for your trick?"

Sparr's mind raced. "The, uh, magician's cloak, the magic beans, and the all-knowing cube." The last one was a bit of a stretch. His communicator wasn't precisely a cube.

"What?" Liette looked up from the pack. "Beans?"

Under careful direction from Sparr, Liette located the survival blanket, his communicator, and two packets of medicine. "The magic beans, yes!" he said. Sparr was desperate for the pistol, but couldn't think of any explanation for it.

"So show us your trick then," Liette said. She pushed the items toward Sparr.

His mind still scrambling to invent a trick, Sparr withdrew four of each pill with a flourish. One of the medicines was an antibiotic. The other was an experimental antiviral that the Alliance had only recently approved for use in the field. Sparr had no idea if either would help Efreem.

"I need two assistants," he said. By now, most of those in the room had turned their attention to Sparr. Several hands shot up, including Kess and Lell, who had been watching with lazy interest. Sparr knew he couldn't rely on either of his previous bed mates. Liette would be suspicious of any trick which involved their participation. Instead he called on two of the princes. Their obvious dislike of Sparr would preclude any worry that they were in on the trick.

Affecting exaggerated boredom, the two princes slouched forward. "And Liette, if you would be so good as to judge."

Sparr fastened the survival blanket around his neck like a cloak, then explained the trick. "The all-knowing cube cannot be deceived," he said, in what he hoped was a showman-like voice. "I entrust it to you," he said, and pressed the communicator into Liette's hand. She smiled proudly, pleased to be included.

He raised his hands, flourishing the cloak. "I call upon the mystical remote audio!" The last two words were gibberish in the local tongue, but activated the communicator's microphone.

Next Sparr pressed three of the red antibiotic pills into the hand of one prince, palming the fourth. He repeated the move with the white antiviral pills, palming one and placing the others into the hand of the second prince.

"I shall wait in one of the alcoves where I can neither see nor hear," Sparr explained. "Three times each you will give the other as few or as many of the magic beans as you wish. As you do so, you must challenge the all-knowing cube! Say 'Cube, I give one white and one red bean', or 'Cube, I give two red beans.'" When you have finished, call me forth.

The princes rolled their eyes, but Liette shot them a scolding glance. "We will challenge the cube," she said, allowing herself to be drawn into the spirit of the moment. She and the two princes retired to the back hall, as far from the alcoves as possible. Sparr stepped into an alcove and pulled the heavy curtain. Quickly, he pocketed the two pills he had kept earlier.

"Remote audio," he said, activating his implant. He could now hear any sound within range of the communicator.

He heard Liette say "You have to challenge the cube."

"Cube, I give two white beans," a prince said, voice dripping with boredom.

"Cube, I give three red beans," said the next prince. Sparr kept track in his head. The first prince now had one white bean and three red.

"Cube, I give one white bean and one red one." The second prince now had three white beans and one red.

And so it went. With his implant playing silently in his head, Sparr kept track of the moves. After three rounds, the first prince held one white bean, while the other held three red and two white.

"You may come forth," called one of the princes.

Sparr reached for the curtain, but stopped himself just in time. He wasn't supposed to be able to hear what was transpiring at the back of the hall. After a moment, one of the maidens pulled back the curtain and guided him out.

"The cube knows all!" Sparr announced. He pointed to the first prince. "You have a single white bean, your friend has the rest." Begrudgingly, the prince opened his palm to reveal the white bean. There was a small smattering of applause.

"It's so obvious," groused the second prince. "He has good hearing is all. He could hear us."

"Nonsense," Sparr said. "Here." He waved over the man with the guitar-like instrument. "Musicians have good ears. He may accompany me in the alcove to confirm that only the all-knowing cube hears you."

The princes and the musician agreed, and the trick was repeated. This time the princes sounded less bored, and tried several variations such as handing over all of the beans in their possession, or none at all. Sparr wasn't fazed. When he and the musician were brought forth, he once again called out the correct count.

"We could hear nothing," the musician said, with a nod toward Sparr. "Nice trick."

The man was being polite. Sparr knew the trick wasn't particularly entertaining, despite his attempts at showmanship. No one called for a repeat, and applause was once again modest. No matter, thought Sparr. Even if he wasn't allowed to keep the blanket and communicator, he had medicine which might help Efreem. That alone had made the ruse worthwhile.

"Sit with us," Liette said. She had returned from the back of the hall and now settled herself on the pile of furs and pillows occupied by the rest of the priestesses. Today she wore a less formal, but still fine, robe of yellow and cream. As before, her full, soft cleavage was on glorious display.

Sparr sat opposite Lell, who offered him her standard smirk. "You're going to get your magician's cape in the wine."

"A cup of wine only enhances my powers," Sparr said, but moved swiftly to remove the survival blanket. Trying to remain nonchalant, he rolled it and tucked it between him and an overstuffed pillow. The blanket doubled as a solar power source for the communicator, which was probably already running in low-power mode.

"I've experienced your powers," said Lell, softly enough that only Sparr and Liette could hear. "I'm not sure I could handle them 'enhanced'."

Liette only pursed her lips. The woman, Sparr noticed, rarely let her guard down. When in public, leading a service, or even here in the presence of the temple residents, she maintained a well-practiced detachment. Only in her private chambers had Liette shown her raw self.

"We were discussing this season's pilgrimage," Liette said. She appraised Sparr carefully, gauging his reaction.

The revelation was welcome. While Sparr had already determined that an Origin pilgrimage was his best option for reaching Shong, he had no idea how often such journeys took place. The suggestion that an opportunity might be upcoming was compelling.

"The journey will be soon?"

"Mmmm," said Liette. "Soon enough. Omm has yet to reveal who will accompany us. Not all receive the honor."

"I wasn't raised in the faith," Sparr said. "How does the almighty make his wishes known?"

Liette settled back, smiling smugly. The priestess loved to have the stage. "Of the faithful, Omm favors those who sacrifice most generously."

Sparr had already guessed as much. No doubt Liette and the other priestesses carefully tallied which citizens handed over the most tokens. Those that, in effect, out-bid their peers would be invited to join the pilgrimage, which Sparr suspected was as much bacchanal as spiritual journey. "And Omm reveals his wishes during prayers?"

"No, no," Liette said, shaking her head as if disappointed. "Omm makes his wishes known through the wheel."

The wheel itself must be rigged, thought Sparr. In the service he had witnessed earlier in the week, the roulette-like device had consistently rewarded supplicants according to their generosity. "And how many of the faithful will be so blessed?"

"Only Omm knows, but," Liette said knowingly, "on the last pilgrimage we escorted twenty souls."

"We didn't bring enough wine last time," Lell interjected. "And no one ate the pickled root salad." Sparr, apparently, had joined them in the middle of a conversation not about interpreting Omm's divine will, but provisioning for a score of thirsty and selective travelers.

"Mention it to Silla. And you're right, we'll have to lay-in more wine."

Sparr was desperate not to lose the opportunity. "Such an important undertaking. You must need most of the temple staff. Cooks, entertainers, guards..."

"The Governor provides guards," Liette said airily. "And we can't take too many of the temple staff. Only a few of the faithful are allowed to make the journey. The temple must remain open to meet the spiritual needs of everyone else while we are away."

Cursing inwardly, Sparr tried a different tactic. "That's smart," he said. "The Origin and the Governor seem to be on good terms. Why bring your own muscle when you're in their good hands?"

Liette eyed him, a touch of irritation written on her face. "Yes, well," she said "naturally we value those who serve Omm in more than one way. Give me a man who can both guard and entertain..." The priestess trailed off as her eyes swept across Sparr's body.

"I might know just such a man," Sparr said.

***

That night Liette called Sparr to her chambers.

Kess brought the summons. She found him lugging sacks of a dark, grotesquely shaped vegetable which Sparr took to be some sort of squash. Some were lumpy and thick, others split into tendrils which reminded him of fingers. The shipment of squash, along with stacks of other provisions, had been unceremoniously dumped into the outer courtyard by an irate vendor who refused to enter the temple. Sparr, along with a man named Kern, were carrying the supplies to Silla, who inspected each sack before sending them on to the cellar.

"Liette will see you," Kess said. Her large, pretty eyes sparkled with the light of torches. She was smiling shyly. Sparr was reminded of the passion they had shared his first night as a captive. The Olm woman had been a welcoming and responsive lover, but some subtle social conditioning stood between them.

"I'm filthy," Sparr observed, opening his arms wide to show the smudges of soil on his chest and arms.

"It's okay," Kess said. "She'll like it. Follow me."

Abandoning Kern, who now had to finish lugging the provisions by himself, Sparr allowed Kess to lead him back into the depths of the temple. The quiet was nearly oppressive, with most of the compound's inhabitants already having retreated to their chambers. A few sleepy guards peered at the pair, but by now both were well recognized. They passed without difficulty to the door of Liette's chambers. Kess turned to face him, her hands briefly gripping his.

"She's, uh... in a mood," Kess said. She gazed at him with what might have been longing. "Have fun?" She slipped away.

Sparr parted the heavy curtain which marked the entrance to Liette's chambers. Inside, a single oil-burning lamp lit the near part of the chamber, but left the far side mostly in shadow. It was there Liette had watched Sparr fuck Lell several days earlier, and it was there she lay now. Sparr could just make out her pale shape reclining against the cushions.

"Who's there?" Liette's voice carried an unexpected edge of uncertainty, of danger. "Some brute sent to ravish the princess?"

Sparr had to stifle a laugh. Liette clearly had a particular type of encounter in mind. He merely had to play his part. "You're mine," he grunted, trying to sound menacing.

"Oh no!" Liette gasped. "Please, no. Take the wine, but leave me be!" There was, in fact, a jug of wine on a table near the door.

"I'll take both," Sparr said. He hoisted the jug, took a deep swallow and slammed it back down. Liette made a small sound of alarm.

From there it was easy to play his role. Sparr strode forward menacingly as Liette shrunk back. Ignoring her cries of alarm he grabbed her robe and tore it in two. Generous female flesh was on offer. Sparr would have guessed Liette to be mid-forties, older than any of his previous lovers. However, the woman had taken good care of herself, and lived a life of ease in the temple. With her impressive cleavage and soft skin she would be an enjoyable partner. Plus, Sparr was beginning to get turned on by the princess/brute fantasy Liette had created.

"There's no one here to protect you now, princess!" Sparr shredded her robe, ripping and yanking away the fabric until the priestess lay quivering and exposed. "I'll take what you're too proud to give freely!"

"Oh Omm, please!" Liette threw an arm across her face. "Save me from this brute!"

"Your god will witness your submission!" Sparr pinned her to the bed, and as his organ stirred, began to kiss the priestess's pale flesh. He worked his way to a heavy breast. "Your bounty is mine now." With deliberate forcefulness, he sucked hard, pawing and squeezing.

"Eeeeeee!" Liette cried out. Sparr couldn't tell if she was only acting, or if an element of genuine concern was creeping in to her performance. He didn't care. Liette and the temple represented everything Sparr disliked about organized religions. He bit and licked her nipple roughly while his hand crept to her slit. She was dripping.