Sparrow's Release (2 page)

The strange, beautiful woman chuckled. “I
know. Those Nanos are amazing little things. They attach to the
speech and language receptors in your brain and do all the
translation work for you. I am Syriveena.” She reached above
Sparrow and clicked something, and the Earthling was suddenly
dumped on the floor like a sack of potatoes.

With a groan, Sparrow sat up and looked at
the woman. “What was that you were saying before?”

The woman’s smile dimmed, and she stood back
to her full height with a somber expression. She seemed almost
pained as she answered, “I said;
Welcome, slave. Your sex will
be prized.”

Sparrow blanched. “Slave?” she gulped.
“They’re going to make me a sex slave?” She shook her head. “But I
thought they were just going to run some experiments and then
return me.”

Syriveena gave Sparrow a look full of pity.
“They would have, until you responded so passionately to the sex
receptor. Unfortunately, any woman who responds half as zealously
as you never sees her home again.” Holding up her hands, she
displayed two bands that looked as if they were fashioned out of
mother of pearl, but had no visible way to remove them. “The only
reason I did not suffer what you are destined to, is because my
deepest stimulations come from mind melding.”

Syriveena sighed as she knelt beside the
stricken Earthling. “Now, they will take you to auction and you
will be sold to the highest bidder.”

Sparrow went from shocked to angry in a
matter of seconds. “Well, I won’t stand for that! I’ll have you
know I’m an officer! I’m an American! I have rights!”

Syriveena nodded to her new friend with the
patience befitting a mother. “Yes, of course you do. Yet even with
those rights, here you are; already five hundred light-years away
from your planet, young one. Even if Earth knew you were gone, they
do not have the capabilities to come after you yet. Maybe they will
in another two hundred years; but not yet.”

Sparrow felt the tears burning behind her
eyes. “What’s going to happen to me? What do I do?” The level of
loss in her voice compelled Syriveena to reach out and pull her
into her arms. She held her tenderly and rocked her, as a mother
would her child. As she comforted her, she began to hum a beautiful
tune with a voice that seemed to have three different tones, in
perfect harmony.

As Sparrow began to relax, the lavender lady
spoke softly. “Pray, my little friend. Pray to whatever deity you
believe in to bless you with a Master who will think more of you
than simply as an outlet for his desires.”

The words made Sparrow think. When was the
last time she had prayed? Did she even still know how? Fear lanced
through her as she gripped at Syriveena desperately and closed her
eyes. With a stifled sob, she began to do just as her new friend
suggested. She prayed.

Navar stood on the balcony beyond his
chambers, waiting for the arrival of the Slavers. In ordinary
circumstances, he would not be in this situation. A slave trade was
not a matter for a King. But this was not a slave trade in the
normal sense. This was a special auction. This one would mean
salvation for his race.

For the past several generations, the women
of his world had become fewer and fewer. Research into the matter
had shown an inherent weakness which only attacked the females of
his race. Their world had a type of radiation on it which
eventually made the women barren. When they had discovered the
reasons for the anomaly, they had searched for and found a
different planet which could sustain them.

Unfortunately, the move had been too little,
too late. The ratio of fertile women to men of his race was
staggering when he thought of the number of men left without a
mate. With the number of deaths in childbirth growing every year,
the odds against more than two out of fifty men becoming a father
became high indeed. When two of the three girls born this past
season had been stillborn, Navar had known it was time to resort to
drastic measures.

He hated the very thought of calling upon the
Slavers. They were an insidious race who stole beings from planets
which were not as developed as theirs, and sold them to others for
whatever purpose the buyer might have; in some cases, physical
labor, in others, physical pleasure. However, in every situation,
the arrangements were made without the captive’s agreement.

No, this was not where a King should be. In
better times, Navar would be raising a battle flag and declaring
war on the ship which was now landing on his world. He did not
believe in the injustice of taking people from their homes in the
middle of the night. Anger made him tremble as he turned and looked
around at his wifeless men. At last count, fifty-seven thousand men
in his region alone were unmarried, with fewer than five thousand
fertile women.

If his people had been the scientific kind
who believed in genetic testing or cloning, they might have been
able to see their way through this crisis on their own. They had
all the medical advances most worlds had. However, they had never
believed in creating life through artificial means. Their skills
were in defense and battle. His was a race of Warriors; probably
the only reason the Slavers had never been able to add them to
their list of weaker beings. That and the fact, what the Slavers
wanted more than anything else, were fertile females. Navar found
himself smirking through his disgust. Their biggest saving grace
was also the one that would ultimately damn them, if this solution
did not work.

The representative for the Slavers had told
him they had found a planet where the women were fertile and
numerous. The Slaver Navar only small differences existed between
his race and these women, and their reproductive organs were the
same. So the agreement had been made; the first shipment was to be
received today. The first four human women were now being delivered
to Meridia as a test. If this worked, the Slaver had assured him
they could bring up to a hundred more every five years. Progress
would be slow, but it would begin to rebuild his civilization.

Navar watched as the ship docked before
turning to make his way to the Arena. As much as he despised these
proceedings, he hated the idea of watching his people die off even
worse. He was to choose first. As King, when he had first
approached his council about this solution, he had told them he
would make the first purchase. He would take the first human woman
to wife. He swallowed hard as he considered what the Slavers had
said; similar features, different colored skins, hair on their
heads and over their genitalia.

He grimaced at the thought. He was unsure
exactly what it was like to have women with fur on their heads. No
one in his race had hair anywhere. That was strictly for animals.
He stiffened his back as he joined his guards. He and his Sentinels
would be the first to try this. If it proved too disgusting or
impossible to get past their differences in appearance, then he
alone would make the sacrifice, not his people.

Sparrow stood in the room, looking at her
reflection in what she supposed was a mirror. She was feeling a
little weary, having been poked, prodded, tested and vaccinated for
diseases, then thoroughly cleaned. Now, Syriveena moved around her,
touching up her hair and making sure the sparse clothing they
draped over her lower body fell just so. Makeup had been applied in
just the right way to make her green eyes stand out in contrast
with her hair and skin. Her skin had been oiled and her black hair
was left down. It fell in ringlets the color of midnight past her
breasts, down her back to her waist. Her breasts were left bare and
they had applied a cream which made her nipples tighten and had her
feeling incredibly sensitive and exposed. Something as slight as
the touch of her hair against the areolas had her hissing through
her teeth.

The material which began at her hips and
flowed to the floor was sheer and did not hide the fact she had
nothing underneath. She stared at the thin, dark line of pubic hair
which could be seen through the material. She huffed, sneering, “If
the cloth is going to be see through anyway, why not just send me
out there naked? Why bother with fixing my hair or doing anything
to make my skin shine?”

Syriveena stopped and met her gaze in their
reflection in the mirror. “You are the prize, Sparrow. You are the
one he is already tied to. Your future together has already been
decided.” The tall woman smiled sadly. “I cannot explain this to
you, my dear. But I beg you to trust me. You will see. You will not
live the life of a slave here, but be happy. Meridia’s people will
once again prosper because of you.” Her smile widened. “You will be
queen.”

Sparrow opened her mouth to ask Syriveena
what she meant, but the tall man whose skin stretched out to look
like his hair showed up and grabbed her. No longer was his voice a
series of clicks or pings. “It is time. You will come with me
now.”

As she was ushered out of the room, Syriveena
called after her. “Try to accept your destiny, my daughter. There
is a reason you were chosen.” Then, after Sparrow was no longer
able to hear her, she whispered. “You will be safe; and loved.”

In a matter of moments, Sparrow found herself
in a room with three other women: a blond, a redhead, and a
brunette with micro-braids. She almost groaned. Her hair was black.
They picked them each for their hair color. Bias pigs! Why not
broaden their horizons? The women of the world were far more
diverse than just the shades of their hair.

All four women just looked at each other. The
blonde gave Sparrow a hesitant smile. “I’m Marissa.” She said
softly. “I hope they aren’t going to beat us. I don’t like
violence.”

The redhead raised an eyebrow at the blonde.
“We’re going to be their property. I’m sure they’ll do whatever
they want with us.” She then turned to include Sparrow. “I’m just
hoping they’re easier to look at than Dread-head over there. I’m
Tesla, by the way.”

Sparrow bit her lip to keep from laughing at
Tesla’s comments. “Sparrow,” she answered with a nod. “I’m still
trying to pinch myself awake.”

The fourth woman looked at the other three
then. She was the brunette with braids. Her face was pretty, with
an arrogant tilt to her chin, and dark brown eyes. It was then
Sparrow realized she was an African American. Her skin reminded
Sparrow of hot cocoa. “I’m Kameeta, and you might as well stop
trying to bruise yourself, girl. We’re here, and we ain’t going
home.”

Marissa looked like she was about to cry.
“Well, at least we aren’t alone!” She shook her head, wrapping her
arms around her bare breasts. “I think I’d have killed myself by
now if I was alone here.”

Tesla rolled her eyes and turned to Sparrow.
“I don’t see any point in even trying to fight this. Like it or
not, we’re stuck here, so we might as well make the most of it.”
She smiled then and looked down at herself. “I’m a stripper by
trade, so this outfit fits right in with my personality anyway.

Sparrow couldn’t stop herself from getting
frustrated. “Well, I’m a cop. No, scratch that. I just made
Detective last month, and I can’t help it. I’m pissed! I didn’t
want this; I sure as hell didn’t ask for it, and I’ll be damned if
I’m going to just make the most of it.” Her hands went to her hips,
which she regretted when Tesla looked down at her bare breasts.

“Those are nice. I’m bi, baby. So if we get
housed together, maybe you’d like to play sometime?” Sparrow
actually blanched at the open lust on the redhead’s face as she
added. “I’ll even let you get rough. We can play
good cop, bad
cop; if you know what I mean.
I’m into
punishment,
if
you want.”

The two other women exchanged glances before
Kameeta cleared her throat. “Ladies, I think it’s
Show Time.
Someone’s coming.” She looked directly at Sparrow. “Seriously,
though. The lady who prepared me told me to exude confidence and
not be ashamed of my assets. Who chooses you will depend on how you
present yourself.” She stepped closer, lowering her voice, “You’re
a cop? Let them see how proud and determined you are. Take that
self-assured personality of yours out there.” She then turned to
Tesla. “You too, Harlot; make those men ache for you.

Marissa stepped up anxiously. “What about me?
What do I do?” Her eyes betrayed her fear and youth. She couldn’t
have been more than nineteen.

Sparrow felt a little anger at their captors
for taking someone so young. She was thirty. Kameeta was at
least
that, and so was Tesla.

Kameeta reached out to the young woman in a
gesture of assurance. “You just stay close to us, tidbit. We’ll all
watch out for you!”

Sparrow smiled as her eyes met Kameeta’s.
“Tesla is a stripper and I’m a cop . . . What were you before they
took you?”

The cocoa woman met her stare with a small
smile of her own. “I used to run a shelter for abused women and
children.” She lifted her head proudly. “I started it after my
niece was gunned down by an obsessed stalker.” She shrugged. “We
lost Government funding last month and I had to close it down.
Guess Uncle Sam didn’t think abused women in the Bronx were
important enough.”

Sparrow felt terrible for Kameeta’s sad tale,
but before she could respond, huge doors more the size of gates
opened, and the women immediately found themselves herded into a
large open Arena. Sparrow squared her shoulders and began walking
out into the center, taking in their surroundings. The sand they
were walking on was black, instead of tan, and shimmered with a
metallic luster.

When she considered the Arena itself, she was
reminded of those built in the days of the Roman Empire. Huge stone
pillars rose from the ground at least three stories high, and what
looked like rows upon rows of Stadium seating surrounded them. The
stone, however, was a lighter shade of gray. She imagined whatever
stone it was made from was much like the sand they were walking
on.