[stern voice] you'll get what you're given, rich, and be thankful! [/stern voice]
thanks for the support, as i always say [I.E. can't be arsed to think of anything original].
while i'm here, i'd like to ask again if anyone feels like being my victim, and having me email them the first few chapters of my new fic, "Time and the Dance" [working title only], so they can read it through before i post it? thanks in advance to whoever volunteers...
this next chapter is a bit awkward and info-giving, and it may be a little hard to work out what the f*ck i'm saying. chapter 27 is horrible, and i'm reluctant to post it. maybe later...
CHAPTER 26
In a way, we’re all brothers and sisters. I mean, we all have the same mother, Sam. The Slaves, I mean. Maybe it makes us closer than most people, I don’t know. I sometimes wonder you, with your proper families, feel as close to each other as we do. I suspect that you don’t. But you probably feel more attached to your real siblings, as you don’t have so many. I expect that we don’t feel as close to each other as you do to your brothers and sisters.
We do, however, feel extremely close to those of us who were born from the same clutch of eggs. We tend to look similar, almost identical, and of course we would be the same age. I suppose that this clutchmate relationship is probably equivalent to your brother/sister relationships. In fact, we refer to our clutchmates as ‘brothers’. This is the most family that most of us ever get, although if we’re lucky we may be adopted by a middle-class mudokon family, then we’d get treated as sons and daughters.
I never had either kind of relationship. As far as I knew, I had never met a ‘brother’, and I didn’t strike it lucky early on, which is what you have to do to get adopted; they don’t adopt above about 3 years old. So I had always been alone.
Until now, as you’ll see.
Good News, Bad News. Vint, Ulp, Rixx, and Olek had all been rescued, as we discovered to our joy when we reached land. Unfortunately, we also discovered that the seven of us were indeed slaves.
Marlik, our new master, seemed to be the toughest in the city, although not as bad as Flakit had been. He wasn’t especially tall for a Glukkon, but he was almost twice as wide as normal. Unlike most Glukkons, he didn’t employ many sligs to do the beating up for him; he preferred a hands-on approach, which mostly considered of giving his slaves a swift kick as he passed, just enough to break a few ribs, not enough to make them unable to work [by his judgement]. He did employ four sligs, but they were mostly used as bodyguards, not for doling out punishments. He kept them at Bigbro status, and we were almost glad that he didn’t get them to beat us. Glad, that is, until we received a little of what he himself doled out.
Like Cyrcit, Carthag was an Industrial City. Unlike Cyrcit, it had only one industry. Fishing. It sounds like quite a quiet, easy pastime, but believe me, it wasn’t. Marlik was one of the junior fishermen. He had only four slaves, apart from us, but we were housed in the same huge communal building as all of the other slaves in the city. He took us out on his boat four or five at a time when we were going out to check the nets or set new ones, except for Olek, who was unable to work with him broken armleg, even by Marlik’s standards.
The mudokon and slig who’d pulled me out of the water were called Gil and Snat. They seemed genuinely sorry for bringing us into the life of slavery, saying that they only did it because they thought that even slavery was preferable to drowning.
The other two slaves were Laur, a tall female with one missing eye, and Hap, a three-year old girl. Marlik particularly enjoyed punishing Hap, I suppose because it demoralised the rest of us.
Like I say, Flakit had been worse, so I was able to withstand him without breaking down. The others weren’t as fortunate. Out of them, only Quiss and Rixx were the only ones who had been slaves before, and I had a sneaking suspicion that Quiss, at least, was not comforted by the fact that he had suffered worse, but was in fact reminded of his past experiences. Rixx seemed to be holding up the best, apart from me, but Quiss often collapsed on the floor, racked with sobs.
Sadly, that meant that he received the worst of the punishment. The first time I heard Quiss’s ribs breaking, and had to set them roughly myself, was on our sixth day after we were rescued from drowning. I was disgusted, and resolved to escape.
Strangely, the anger I felt then was closely followed by what was possibly the most happy discovery of my life.
Me, Vint, Quiss, and Gil were pulling up one of the fishing nets. There were all sorts of rare creatures caught in the nets, all of which would probably be sold in some form or another by Marlik. Marlik and his guards passed us by on their rounds. Suddenly I heard a muffled crack, and Quiss’s scream. Turning, I saw, Quiss writhing in agony on the floor, clutching at his misshapen chest. Marlik was walking away, flanked by two of his BB Sligs, wiping a small bloodstain from his shoe onto the deck.
We stopped pulling on the ropes, and rushed to Quiss’s side. With the presence of mind he always seemed to possess, Vint rushed to the wall, and pulled off the Medikit. I stroked Quiss’s head and tried to relax him, before snapping his ribs back into place. This made him scream louder, but I knew that it would be necessary if he was to heal. Leaving Vint to do the bandaging, I stood and angrily attempted to follow Marlik. Gil’s hand on my shoulder stayed me.
“Your brother needs help. Revenge will just get you killed.”
I nodded, and returned to Quiss’s side. It was only later, back on shore in our room, when Quiss was bandaged and sleeping fitfully, that I actually realised what Gil had said.
“Gil?”
“Hmm?”
I shared a room with Gil, Quiss, Laur and Hap.
“What did you call Quiss?”
Gil looked puzzled. “I didn’t insult him, did I?”
I shook my head. He’d misunderstood me. “No, I mean what did you describe him as?”
“What? Your Brother?”
I pointed a finger at him. “That’s it! Why did you call him my brother?”
He looked mollified. “Oh, I’m sorry, I just assumed…”
“Why?”
“Well, you look so much alike, and you’re always the first to his side when he’s punished.”
I looked down at Quiss. Could it be? Now that I thought about it, I was amazed that I hadn’t noticed the similarity before. Possibly because I had never seen my own face looking as innocent as his did. Maybe because whenever I saw my own face in a mirror, I saw nothing but the Killer, who couldn’t even attempt to contaminate such a pure, guileless face as Quiss’s. But still, you’d think I’d know my own face, after living for so long amongst Zell’s mirrors. Had I been twisted so much by that incident.
So Quiss was my brother. That explained why I felt such a strong bond with him. Even when I first met him, I’d felt some kind of subconscious attachment there. It was all so clear now.
I had a relative.
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Guns don't kill people, People kill people! Using Guns.
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I think this should be a published book! This is the best fic i've read so far. keep up da good work!
