Page 48 of Taken to Heimo
13
Svera
I’ve felt this before.That’s the thought that comes to me as I wake what feels like a rotation later. It must have only been moments because I’m still being dragged by the same males on what looks like the same ramp.
I blink away the fog in my head and swallow several times to keep my stomach under control as I fight to find the rest of my limbs. They’re all restrained as I’m cradled by two males with eight arms between them.
I glance around.Stars,the transporter is huge. So much larger than it looked on the outside. My ears are popping and my sweat is making my arms slick beneath my torn, ash-covered abaya.
Ramps, like the one beneath me, crisscross over one another and none of them have railings. When I look down, my already fragile stomach does another precarious dance. There are Niahhorru everywhere. Hundreds of them. Maybe more. They walk the railways, moving this way and that — all with purpose. Some wear more and less clothes than others. Some carry tools. And the canyon below me goes down so many levels.
The silver planks crisscrossing below me seem to come and go…their mechanics too hard to grasp. Andworse, or perhaps, morespectacular, the walls of this ship aren’t static. They’re the same fluidity that I saw on the outside of the ship, occasionally parting in places to reveal a black sky full of billions of faraway stars. Then the windows shut, swallowing the universe back up before revealing it again in new windows that fold and unfold elsewhere, all around us. I feel faint trying to chart their course.
The two warriors hold me easily, so I just let my weak, stumbling legs go. It makes no difference. Two hands come to grip my waist, joining the ones on my arms. They lift me up so my feet don’t even touch the sleek grey ground anymore. One of them calls ahead to Rhorkanterannu.
He’s stopped halfway down this ramp that leads to a shimmery silver wall and is staring over his shoulder to the left. I follow his gaze to the exterior wall. It’s parted again to reveal a taste of the universe. I can see our moon colony, just a speck of brown the size of a hand, then the size of a bean, then the size of a grain of rice, then nothing.
He must have used the machine again, the same one that transported thirty of his warriors onto Voraxia’s surface without notice. He must have used it again, this time to transport an entire ship.
“Jump quadrants a dozen more times, until we’re sure that the Voraxians will have no way to track us. We cannot make the same mistake we did before. And disable her life drive.”
One of the pirates holding me fiddles with my left arm while the other lifts his hand up to his ear and begins speaking in low, rapid tones to absolutely no one, just like Mathilda did back in her home.It must be some form of communicator…
Rhorkanterannu resumes his pace just as the wall shifts again, gobbling up the sight of my home. Just like that, the threads of hope binding me to it all break.
I feel a surge of hysterics threatening to take completely control of my body, but I also feel…something else. A stinging in my chest wasn’t there before that sits where Krisxox’s hearts sit below my sternum. That odd pain is strangelycalming.
Then, I’m heftedthroughthe next wall because there are no doors and deposited alone with Rhorkanterannu into a long, rectangular room framed by three silver walls and one that’s entirely transparent and has a beautiful view of rapidly shifting light. It stalls and those streaks of light become stars. The process repeats and I get dizzy trying to follow it, knowing that we must be entering some sort of near-light speed.
Instead, I turn my attention to the male I’m alone with and the room surrounding us. It’s a plush, decadent room, full of bizarre things. Huge nets hang suspended at irregular intervals and, in the center of the room, stands a very weird looking podium. Aside from that, there isn’t one single decoration on the walls, but the floor…oh my stars, the floor. It’s covered in hand-woven carpets that look so human I would not be able to tell the difference.
“They are from the Eshmiri reavers. They operate frequently out of Kor and claimed to have located an asteroid filled with trash belonging to you humans. I do not know if they are real, but I felt compelled to purchase these. I found them beautiful.”
I nod, distracted by a flash of green carpet among the many others. I push aside a net to get to it and pull it free of the overlapping rugs concealing it fully from view.
I hold it up to the lights shining muted overhead in shades of pink and yellow and run my fingers over the gold embroidered lettering.
“Allah alrahman el rahim,” I whisper, turning to Rhorkanterannu, who is watching me now with a puzzled look.
“What does it mean?”
“No one knows the original translation, only the symbols.” I offer him a smile, though it is shaky. “It means that my Tri-God has not forsaken me.” I close my eyes, whisper a prayer, then say, “And it means that you have not been cheated by your reavers. This is a true carpet of the old world.”
I start to set it down, but he says in a rough whisper, “Then it is yours.”
I meet his gaze squarely and try to remember that I’m alone, but along the way, I learned something. I can stand up for myself against this male because I’ve done it already to Krisxox and there’s nothing more frightening than going toe-to-toe with him.
Well. My gaze rakes Rhorkanterannu’s wholly alien frame. Almost nothing. “I will not need it. I don’t plan on staying long.” I set the prayer mat down and turn to face him with my arms crossed. “Now, tell me what you want.”
He chuckles under his breath and the sound is jarring. The overlapping waves of his voice make me feel like I’m adrift at sea and can’t find the shore.
“I don’t see what’s funny,” I try again, cautious with how I use my limited Meero. “I know that you won’t force me to participate in the shekurr.”
“What do you know of shekurr?” The swirling silver of his eyes changes all of a sudden, becoming more frantic.
“I know that it is a Niahhorru ceremony intended to produce kits. Because your birthing rates are so low, many males will seek to impregnate one female.”
“That female is thus honored. If the shekurr is successful and she is able to bear a litter, then she has no shortage of fathers.”
