Page 37 of The Prisoner's Gambit
“Come. Lie here. As I prepare your body I will explain.”
Maureen did as she was told, lying on the low table beside the Skrizzit. The tattoo artist applied a light liquid of some sort and began kneading her from top to bottom. Much as she hated to admit anything pleasant about this whole ordeal, the massage actually felt pretty good.
“You see, my services are provided for a fee,” the Skrizzit explained while forcing Maureen’s muscles to stretch out, her body relaxing with every stroke. “As it will require a sizable amount of work to properly apply pigment to a mature one such as yourself, the cost is high. Just the nascent pigment for your new Infala costs more than the rest of the work combined.”
“Why is that? It’s just one rune.”
“Yes, but it is Dotharian Conglomerate law the Infala be properly placed on every citizen from youth. The pigment used and the detail of the design make it costly. It is what keeps our society whole. What bonds citizens to their mates, ensuring the peaceful growth of our society.”
“Right, it tells you who you should like, I know.”
“It is far more than that. When the Infala is first placed it is searching for its match. For the one it will bond with. And when that mate is found, the rune will shift, the living pigment altering itself within your skin until you and your fated one share the same marking. It is that which makes you a bonded pair.”
“Great, I’ll be a prisoner but at least I’ll have some kind of inked mating thing. Wonderful.”
“Oh, it is not like that. Dotharian law is clear that bonded mates are to be free citizens. Only the unbonded or those who commit the worst of crimes are deprived of their freedom. If you should somehow bond while in servitude you will become free.”
Maureen mulled that over a moment. The only way to get out of prison was to somehow become someone’s mate. Not exactly likely behind bars.
“So, prison it is, then.”
“No, you will not be imprisoned. That is foolish. You have value in your labors. The Mondarians are paying the cost of my services, but you will be required to work to repay it. As you are a female, and of a weaker race, you will be made a servant in one of the ruling elite’s households. It will be your duty to clean and provide whatever services are required of you.”
“A slave instead of a prisoner. Not much of a difference if you ask me.”
“But there is. You will not be a slave. You have basic rights and must have your time of service be compensated at a reasonable rate to pay off your debt.”
“Pay which goes back to the people paying you.”
“Yes, though a small portion will be held aside for your eventual release from your contract. The Mondarians do not wish servants to be thrust back into society with no means to support themselves, after all.”
“But you said a small amount. What good will that really be?”
“After your years of service, it will add up to enough to provide you a stable means of living for a time while you find other employment.”
“Years? This just gets better and better.”
“I knew you would appreciate the Mondarian generosity,” the Skrizzit said, not catching Maureen’s dripping sarcasm. “You cannot leave your station without permission, naturally, and, of course, you cannot travel freely. But the years should pass quite quickly, and most in your position find the service is not as bad as they fear.”
The Skrizzit worked on her body a little while longer then wiped her dry, laying out a small selection of tattooing implements on a small bench and placing several little containers of pigment beside them.
The inks seemed to be moving in their containers, blacks, blues, browns, and even pale white, all shifting like tiny lava lamps. Of course, as Bodok had informed her, the pigment was actually alive, waiting to bond with a person’s flesh, gaining nutrition and life from them while conveying their own gift from the galactic energy they absorbed. A symbiotic relationship of the most unusual sort.
Maureen had never wanted tattoos, and she still didn’t, but she had to admit the one behind her ear translating everyone’s speech was actually pretty amazing. And from what she’d seen, there could be a lot of interesting things the other runes could do for you, depending on your species’ strengths and weaknesses.
In any case, she didn’t have a choice either way.
“Now, relax. This will be a whole-body process, and though the lines connecting them are relatively light, the runes themselves will require some work. This will take a while,” the Skrizzit said. “Would you like a strap to bite on?”
“No.”
“You are sure of this? It can help with the pain.”
“I’m sure.”
“Very well. I will begin.”
Maureen had received the tattoo behind her ear while still unconscious from her abduction. Being inked while fully awake was an entirely different sort of experience. But rather than pull back from the pain, she forced herself to ignore it as best she could. Chatting actually seemed to help the most.
