Sidna looked slightly mollified.
“Really? This isn’t a long term arrangement then? Because I never liked the idea of you buying a male slave in the first place and I don’t trust this one as far as I could throw him.”
“It’s just a one time thing,” Trin told her soothingly. “As soon as the deal is done, Thrace is gone.”
“Well…” Sidna took a deep breath. “I still don’t like it and I still don’t trust him. But I’m willing to stick by you, Trin—at least until Yonnie Six.”
“Thank you.” Trin put a hand on the other woman’s shoulder. “That means a lot to me, Sidna. Good medics are hard to find and good friends are even harder.”
A small smile graced the medic’s thin lips.
“Just be careful letting him in there with you. Sleep with that remote in your hand.” She nodded to the small, black rectangle Trin still held.
“I intend to,” Trin said gravely. “Now, I’d better go listen to the message Lady Malroth left. And then I’m going to get some sleep—I’m dead tired.”
“I’ll see you in the morning,” Sidna said, nodding. “Pleasant dreams, Trin.”
“Pleasant dreams, Sidna.” She watched the medic walk away with the feeling of a near disaster averted. Sidna was strong willed enough to stir the crew towards mutiny if she truly didn’t believe in a decision Trin had made. They’d had their differences in the past but never anything this severe. Trin just hoped she had put the older woman’s fears to rest.
And she hoped that Sidna was wrong about Thrace.
With a sigh, she went into her cabin and closed the door. There was nothing else to do.
* * * * *
When he came out of the shower, a towel wrapped around his hips, Thrace saw Trin was sitting on the end of her bed watching a message on the viewscreen.
“I received your message about your shipment of Jaxite crystals with cautious pleasure, mingled, I must confess, with more than a little trepidation,” a sharp, cultured voice said.
Thrace started to go back into the fresher—this was a private message, after all. But he could tell that the woman speaking was a mistress of Yonnie Six by the way she was dressed. She was wearing an outfit that was a bizarre mixture of modest and revealing. Her dress had a collar that went up to her chin and fell down to her ankles, covering her completely. It was a flat, opaque blue except for clear mesh panels over her breasts and the area between her thighs. Though they were technically covered, her breasts and sex were clearly revealed by the odd garment.
But her dress wasn’t the only strange thing about her—her hair was dyed deep blue to match her dress and swept up in an elaborate style that towered over her head. On her fingers, rings filled with rare and precious gems flashed as she talked.
Oh yeah, Yonnie Six, all right, Thrace thought. His old Master had had some dealings with the mistresses there—though he’d been forced to use a female envoy to conduct them. The Yonnites had absolutely no respect or use for males at all—except as body-slaves. That was about as much as Thrace knew about them and it was as much as he’d ever wanted to know. But since this call might affect his future freedom and Trin’s ability to sell the crystals, he figured he’d better listen in.
“My trepidation, of course, stems from the fact that last time you came to see me, you were not properly accessorized.” The Yonnie mistress emphasized the word. “I trust you know what I mean.”
“Yeah, I know what you mean,” Trin muttered from the bed. “You want me to have a body-slave, you snobbish prig.” Her back was still towards him so she didn’t see Thrace standing in the shadows watching her. There was a slump to her slim shoulders that spoke of her weariness and he felt a surge of pity for his new mistress.
“I very much want the shipment and I’m prepared to give you a very fair price. But…” The mistress held up one ringed finger. “You must have a proper body-slave with you this time. It is of utmost importance as the only place I can see you is at the Landra-Rey Celebration. There will be other mistresses there as well and I must not be seen to associate with an inferior connection. Every move you make will be scrutinized so I hope you’re up to date on the current customs and fashions. As you know, they change daily—sometimes hourly—on our lovely world and only the latest fashions and trends will be tolerated.”
“Customs and fashions. Goddess of Judgment, give me strength!” Trin sighed and ran a hand through her long black hair.
“Your body-slave must also be perfectly behaved with only the finest manners. An impressive specimen will be in order so I hope you have procured one.”
“Oh, I think you’ll be impressed, Lady Malroth,” Trin muttered to herself and Thrace couldn’t help grinning. It was good to know she had confidence in his ability to impress the picky Yonnite mistress.
“The Landra-Rey Celebration is being held two days from now at Lady Tam-tams estate, Dreaming Hills, located in the countryside just north of Opulex. I will leave your name at the estate entrance and I hope to see you at the grand reception the first evening. There we can meet and talk and finalize our deal…if everything is acceptable.”
The message ended abruptly with no good-bye. Presumably Lady Malroth was too busy for such trivial courtesies.
“Well, it looks like we have our work cut out for us,” Thrace said, stepping forward.
“Oh!” Trin spun around, one hand to her heart and the remote to the pain collar gripped in the other. Her eyes widened when she saw him.
“Take it easy,” Thrace held out his free hand in a gesture of peace—the other was holding the too-small towel around his waist and he didn’t want to let it go. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”
“Were you listening to my message?” Trin demanded, her dark eyes flashing.
Thrace nodded, seeing no point in lying.
“I figured it concerned us both.”
She sighed and seemed to lose some of her irritation.
“You’re right about that. I was hoping she’d be willing to grant me a quick, private audience in her own home to do this deal but no—apparently I’ve got to go to some weird celebration or other where my every move will be scrutinized in order to even see her.”
“What kind of celebration is it?” Thrace raised an eyebrow.
She shrugged. “Honestly, I don’t know. The daughters of Zetta Prime are descended from the Yonnie Six mistresses but we stopped following their customs long ago.”
“Except for the one about having nothing to do with males,” Thrace pointed out dryly.
“Except for that,” Trin admitted. “Although even the Yonnites have more dealing with males than we do. They use them for body-slaves—we just prefer to avoid them altogether.”
“Too bad I seem to be unavoidable,” Thrace remarked, smiling at her.
A small smile ghosted across her lips in reply.
“I guess so.” She sighed. “Well, that message was dated from much earlier—it must have come in just as I was leaving for the Demon’s Eye. Which means we really only have a day to get ready and get ourselves back to Yonnie Six and this Landra-Rey Celebration.”
“Guess I’ll have to become the perfect body-slave,” Thrace said thoughtfully. “I’d better not screw this up for you if I don’t want to remain in your service for the rest of my natural life.”
“I’ll have to be the perfect mistress as well.” Trin sighed. “That’s not going to be easy. The Yonnites are so devious and round-about. I prefer straight-forward dealings where you know where you stand.”
“We’re going to be standing in quickmud the entire time and we’ll sink in up to our necks if we don’t keep moving,” Thrace muttered. “With your permission, I’d like to run a few searches on the viewscreen—I need to find out exactly what’s going to be expected of me.”
“Okay, but tomorrow.” Trin yawned and shivered, wrapping her arms around herself. “We’ll start early but right now I’m tired and really cold. I need a hot shower and then I’m going to bed.”