Page 25 of Volunteer 4711

The next morning, I wake up with terrible cramps. My period has starting, and every other month it is especially painful. I wipe the sleep out of my eyes and get out of bed slowly. As I go to the toilet, I think to myself,No wonder I was so emotional yesterday. I reflect that the Commander isn’t going to send me back, but it’s more likely he has much more important things on his mind with the meeting with the other fleet coming up soon. I remember his words to me when he sold the other Water people to the Imperials, he told me that he would never sell me. And I assume those are strong words for a pirate. If he didn’t sell me then to the Imperials, there’s no way he’d give me up for free to some lowly farmers.

The Silver have a convenient tab for periods that I insert into my vagina to absorb the blood flow of my shedding uterus and immediately dull the pain of the cramps. It’s one of the best things about living on the Commander’s ship. I only wish it would tell me when I was over-emotional because of my hormones. But it’s always been this way for me, and some months I’m terrible, like yesterday, and I have nonsensical thoughts that seem real until the next day.How many years until menopause?I wonder.

The Commander buzzes me, and I hurry to his quarters. I’m late. I rush in and bow.

“Why are you late?”

“I was in the bathroom. I was delayed. Forgive me,” I bow again.

“Are you healthy?”

My eyes meet his sharp cobalt ones, and I only see concern. “Yes, Commander. It won’t happen again.”

“Dress me,” he commands, and I begin dressing him in clean undergarments and then his uniform with all the pins. When I finish, I expect him to leave, and I’ll go over the messages that need to be sent and change his bedding, but he stays.

“Volunteer 4711,” he says.

“Yes?”

“There’s a small matter of the farmers you volunteered with wanting you back.”

I don’t know how to reply, so I wait for him to continue.

“Don’t believe any gossip. I’d never return you tothatplace,” he says.

“I understand.”

He looks as if he’s going to say something more but then decides against it and leaves for the bridge.

I realize that I had been holding my breath and let it go. My shoulders relax as well. I don’t know why but I needed to hear him say that. I guess the gossip on the ship had finally reached him. My friend always says, ‘Gossip begins with the servants and then makes its way up to the top within two days.’

I sit at his computer and begin going through the messages, there are quite a few, and it takes me most of the morning. I see one that is unusual and even more so because it’s from the government, which shouldn’t be because this is his personal account. The government should be using his professional GC account. I open it. It’s a private message from a government official. He and the Commander are friends, and he wants to know if the Commander can still meet at the rendezvous point. This isn’t the first time a message like this has come through, but this is definitely the most cryptic one I’ve ever seen. I mark it for the Commander and then make my way through the rest.

In the afternoon, while I’m at my self-defense class, the Commander comes in to watch. He’s been here every day lately, and I wonder if he’s worried about me when we meet the other fleet. It makes me feel good when he comes, and I try even harder to learn what is being taught to me. After each session, the Commander dismisses me with a look of approval. Today is no different, which is somewhat disappointing, as I really got my instructor good when he thought he had me. I won’t be surprised if he has a bruise tomorrow, and I wish the Commander would’ve acknowledged that.

That evening, the Commander buzzes me when he’s ready, and I hurry to his quarters, I enter, as usual, and begin undressing him. He asks me about the message I marked from the government. “Did you recognize the name?”

“Should I have?” I stop with his clasps and look up.

“I suppose not,” he answers after a second, I think he’s trying to determine if I’m lying. “Do you know who brokered your volunteering?”

I shake my head. “The Water military came to my home, and I was told I had two days before leaving for the Home Planet. They put this mark on me,” I touch my left cheek, I still hate to look at my tattoo, the branding of my fate as a volunteer. “They took my picture and then left. I received very little information. Then we traveled here, and I was dropped at the farm.”

He gets to his knees and looks me in the eyes, “Do you know the Water person’s name responsible?”

“I don’t know anyone’s name who was involved.”

“This is important, Volunteer 4711; I need to know everything,” he says, looking at me intently.

“When we arrived on the Home Planet, the same AI that had piloted the ships drove the land vehicles. The only other people I saw before the farm were the people at the auction,” I can tell by his expression I’ve said something he likes as his eyes light up in a way I recognize when he’s pleased.

“What auction?”

“I’m not sure if it’s the correct word,” I say, not wanting to make a mistake.

“Just describe it to me,” he says.

“I was the last Water person in purple to be dropped off. The AI kept checking our cheeks with a scanner and dropping different women at different places. When it got to be my turn, I was taken to a stage, and a Silver male was there on the stage with me. I think he was selling me.”

---