Slave (34 page)

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Authors: Cheryl Brooks

Tags: #Romance Speculative Fiction

BOOK: Slave
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Following Tudrock’s instructions, I was able to collect a lot of Cat’s semen to give to her to disperse as she saw fit. I was threatened with all sorts of dire consequences if I passed along the secret manner in which it was “collected.” Tudrock seemed to think that my suggestion of crossing Cat with the SWAT team women was a good one. I thought I’d like to go back someday and see how they turned out, but so far I haven’t made it back there.
The question of what to do with my life posed the biggest problem now. Cat didn’t care what we did, being of the opinion that almost anything would be an improvement over what he’d done in his life up to that point, so he left it up to me. I was a little tired of the constant travel and Statzeel was a beautiful place; living there would have had its advantages, but I decided that the see-through clothes and the collar and leash thing would probably grate on me after a while. It made me wish that there was a wilder part of the planet where we could disappear to, but unfortunately such a place didn’t exist—well, I guess we could have carved out a place to live in the deep jungle, but between the swergs and the bugs, we probably would have been pretty miserable.

Besides, it was an agrarian society on the whole, and I didn’t think I’d make a very good farmer. Cat could probably do almost anything since he’d had to do all sorts of things as a slave; but, in all honesty, we really didn’t have to do anything at all, for I had enough credits to enable the two of us to live quite comfortably for the rest of our lives if we were frugal—which, generally speaking, I usually was. I wasn’t in the habit of decking myself out with rare jewels, for example, and Cat had nothing at all. I wondered if he’d stay naked all the time unless he left the house, the way he had when he was on my ship. While I did like the idea, I really didn’t think it was necessary since I was pretty sure he’d take his clothes off anytime I asked.

I did like the horses we’d gotten from the Nedwuts, but taking them with me on the ship would have been difficult. And since they’d undoubtedly been stolen from
someone else, we’d eventually have to give them back once the owners were found if we stayed there on Statzeel. I was in limbo, and I felt lost, almost as though I’d suddenly been blinded. My life had no purpose anymore, other than to be with Cat, and I knew I could do that anywhere.

I felt that our parents should know that Ranata was safe and sound, though she had no intention of ever returning to Earth. So, in the end, I decided to take the simplest course and head for home, doing a little trading along the way and helping to spread the word about the Nedwuts and the drug dealers. I just hoped we didn’t run into any of them while we were at it since knowing that there was a bounty on Zetithians made avoiding them an absolute must.

So, one bright, sunny morning, Cat and I saddled up and headed back to the spaceport, retracing our journey through the jungle. Cat and I rode unhurriedly on that trip, except in the section where we’d run into the swergs and all the bugs, where we made some serious tracks! Our trek was made bittersweet by the knowledge that I would be leaving my sister behind, as well as Buckaroo, of whom I’d become increasingly fond. We didn’t see any of the Guardians on that trip: I guess we’d gotten all the luck we would need for the rest of our lives with our previous encounters. I had hoped that one of them would at least wave goodbye to us, but if they did, I never saw them.

Passing through the villages again, we sold a good bit of what we’d brought along with us and made about a bajillion pairs of new shoes for the locals with my
Shoemaker in a Box for a fraction of the cost of new ones.

I doubt that the local cobblers were terribly pleased with me, but everyone else sure was! Once again I considered selling samples of Cat’s coronal fluid to the women, knowing full well that I could make a fortune from it, but decided not to since it would have undoubtedly caused a riot. We’d made enough credits to pay for any fines we might have incurred for leaving my ship in the port for so long, so we probably didn’t need the extra money anyway.

I did think about bottling his fluid and selling it on other worlds along our route back to Earth—just not telling anyone what it was or where it came from. I decided I’d have to experiment with it some and see if it lost its potency over time—although I couldn’t imagine anyone
ever
leaving it on the shelf long enough for it to go bad!

We spent our nights in a tent along the road, making love in a delightfully carnal fashion each evening, not even caring that hordes of insects were bombarding the tent all night long—though I did make liberal use of some repellent Ranata gave me. I had no desire to get knocked out by a mosquito ever again!

Cat and I both found that we had difficulty functioning if we were ever so much as out of each other’s sight, so it seemed that whatever we did for the rest of our lives, we were definitely going to have to do it together. But I, for one, didn’t mind, because I loved looking at Cat as much as I loved doing anything else with him.

I didn’t get to see Delamar again before we left, and I’d wished I could have since I felt I owed him a great deal for his help. I left a message at the restaurant for
him, though, and I hope he got it. I had a feeling that Tudrock had a few choice words for him, herself, for not explaining all of the implications of his “treatment” to us. I got the distinct impression that he’d done it before, and also that it was ever so slightly against the rules.

We didn’t stay long in port once we got back to the
Jolly Roger
, and, oddly enough, it felt good to get back into space. Cat stripped off his clothes as soon as we had everything aboard, including a hundred bolts of the local see-through fabric. If I didn’t make a small fortune selling that stuff, then I couldn’t very well call myself a trader!

I taught Cat how to fly the ship, and we spent a fair amount of time improving his knowledge of Earth’s history and lore. Oddly enough, he’d actually heard the “Do I feel lucky?” remark I’d made to the Nedwuts and asked me about its origin—which, of course, meant that he had to watch every
Dirty Harry
movie I had in the computer database. It took a little time, but time was now something that we both had in abundance.

When we got back to Earth, I wasn’t sure what made my parents more pleased: the fact that Ranata was alive and well, or the fact that I’d finally hooked up with a man.

Mom thought Cat was really cool, although my father remained a bit tepid about the relationship until I actually married him and we had our first litter. I say litter, because there were three of them: all males and all just like their father, except that they had gold pupils rather than purple.

It seemed that the changes the healers had made in us weren’t hereditary, which was a pity, for I would have liked to have seen at least one with purple eyes.
The story of the destruction of Zetith grew with the telling, and I’m happy to say that the Nedwuts have been singing small for quite a number of years now. Most of them don’t dare set foot on another world, for even if they aren’t shot on sight, they are harassed to the point that they don’t stick around very long.

We stayed on Earth for a while, but soon space began calling to me again, so we loaded up the kittens and went back to trading. Cat and I have visited many worlds and discovered that Cat was
not
the last of his kind. There were other survivors, but I leave it to them to tell their own stories.

We never made it back to Statzeel, but received word in a roundabout way that the breeding program was proceeding well and had exceeded all expectations. It wasn’t made clear whether it was Cat’s offspring or Ranata’s that were responsible, but I’d like to think that they both were.

I am quite old now. Cat and I have had many children, and though our litters have all grown and have had litters of their own, even my great-grandchildren still look like Zetithians. I have no idea how many generations must pass before the bloodline is too dilute to produce the same characteristics, but I doubt that I will see it in my lifetime.

Cat and I have been together for sixty-five years, and though we are both showing our age, my love for him has only grown stronger with each passing year, and I still feel the fire in my soul each time I look upon him, just as I did when I first saw him there in chains on Orpheseus Prime so many years ago.
I remember remarking to Cat on our fiftieth anniver-sary that he had now been in slavery with me for at least twice as long as he had been before I found him. He laughed, kissing me fondly and thanking me yet again for rescuing him, but I knew that no thanks were necessary, for, in truth, I hadn’t been the one to rescue him at all. Oh, no, my friend!
He
was the one who rescued
me
.

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