Trapped: Chaos Core Book 1 (3 page)

“Geist? It had to be
Geist?” Sun said, staring up at her for a long moment. “No,
there’s a solution, something. We get out of this, we meet where we
found all those old ships and then we fix you, okay? That’s what’s
going to happen.”

Aspen knew what she was
talking about. When they were robbing a station that turned into a
death trap after the artificial intelligence turned on the occupants
they found a whole room filled with ancient ships in bottles. Sun
delivered the best one to Captain White, and the last time Aspen saw
it, it was under the small table in the Captain’s quarters
collecting dust. “With all the old ships, yeah, I’ll meet you
there.”

The door shifted to the
side suddenly and Aspen was dragged out then shoved down the hall to
the next door. Commander Rocha stepped into the doorway after she was
dumped into an even smaller room. “The place with all the ships?
What are you talking about? Where are you planning to meet?”

“Olega, the Starfire
Shipyards have a museum there,” Aspen said. “Guess that plan’s
done for.” It was two sectors in the opposite direction from Kwalli
Station.

“Neither of you are
getting away, this is the UCA, you stupid little thing,” the
Commander said, shaking her head. “Idiot. Keep her here until we
arrive. Put her out, no need for her to be conscious.”

“Good God, I need to
murder you,” Aspen said, meaning every syllable.

Commander Rehea paused
a moment, staring at her prisoner in shock. “I don’t think God
hears dolls, now do they?” the door closed as soon as she finished
her taunt.

Aspen tried to lunge
forward but the suit stopped her. She felt a sharp pinch on her arm
then the room began to fade. With a crooked grin, Aspen turned
herself so her head was perfectly in line with the edge of the flip
down toilet, which was stuck in the open position. “Wonder if the
suit can stop this?” she asked before losing consciousness, leaning
forward.

The powerful aroma of
lilacs struck Aspen’s senses as she woke. It was the last thing she
wanted to smell, it meant that the Countess was near. Opening her
eyes and sitting up, she realized that she was aboard a simple small
transport with three rows of plush, reclining seats. It was the Fleet
Feather, a ship that was gilded on the inside and outside, with a
pattern of fine interlocking branches drawn across the interior in
platinum leaf. Wood trimming was everywhere, and the intelligent
seating was upholstered with organically produced cloth. The outside
of the ship always reminded Aspen of a broad-breasted bird that was
about to take flight, if a bird could be red and purple. As one of
the former keepers of the Countess’ accounts, she knew the vessel
was worth more than most luxury estates, and the upkeep was even more
expensive.

This was the main
transport vehicle for the Countess’ least important guests. It
doubled as an escort craft, with a few extra guns, and she’d seen
most of the inside, but always travelled with the Countess herself on
her craft. The cockpit was a mystery. She knew it was up the stairs
in the main forward hallway, after the crew quarters and the small
galley, but the hatch was always locked up there.

That damned binding
suit was holding her in place, so she was sitting perfectly upright
in the middle of the seating area. There was no sign of her
crewmates, only two guards who wore the gilded armour that marked
them as servants of the Countess’s house. The white plate would be
more intimidating if it wasn’t adorned with gold and bronze
filigree, making them look dainty.

The ship touched down
with a brief chorus of creaks and the cockpit door opened. “Right,
ramp’s down, unload quick now,” bellowed the pilot from above
before he slammed the hatch again.

The guards approached
and Aspen’s suit relaxed its hold on her. The search for any
opportunity to escape began then. “On your feet, if you please. We
do not want to clean up another mess, so don’t injure yourself
again.”

“Oh, the suit didn’t
stop me from falling?” Aspen asked, a little amused. “Cracked my
head open?”

“The UCA treated you,
but we had to clean the blood off your suit. There was a lot. Please
move carefully.”

Aspen knew that the
guards were usually nice to her as long as she didn’t break the
rules. Sometimes they’d even let her bend them as a child, though
she was sure she’d have to re-earn their trust after being away for
over a year. She followed them out of the secondary hold and let them
guide her down the narrow corridor, watching for unlocked hatches,
open crawlspaces or a control panel that she could quickly mess with
to shake them, but didn’t find anything on her way to the ramp
leading off the ship. The smell of fresh lilacs blasted her in the
face as she set foot on a cobblestone courtyard. Its paths were lined
with the purple flowering trees.

The Countess’s new
palace was even more grand than the last one. Marble and ancient
brick walkways arched from the ground paths leading through a massive
garden to a broad elevated marble platform. Spraying fountains with
cherubs and stone beasts chasing barely dressed maidens adorned the
massive central platform along with benches, several tables and bars
attended by beautiful servants. A long polished stone concourse led
from there to the main building, a tall structure with pillars across
the front. Black vines climbed the façade behind them and the main
doors were adorned with white and yellow gold. There was nothing
subtle about her old master.

“Aspen?” asked a
familiar voice. Aspen’s mood brightened as Larken ran from the
grass to her left and embraced her. His long blonde hair was soft and
silky, he reeked of lilacs. The oil that had been brushed into his
hair was worse than the trees. He gave her a kiss on the cheek and
held her at arm’s length. “You look good,” he said, surprised.
“The Countess said you joined a band of pirates, that you were no
better than a street rat. I was worried.”

“I was free, Larken,”
she said. “I would have taken you with me, I thought you were
dead.”

“I was protecting the
Countess, who is fine now, by the way. She had to spend a week
visiting the flesh crafters, then there was recovery, but she’s
brave, and pulled through.”

“I don’t care about
her, I’m just glad to see you. I ran because I thought you were
dead. When I didn’t get caught using my real name, I was sure the
Countess was dead too. I don’t think there was a day when I didn’t
wish you were free with me,” Aspen said. The last part was true
until only a few months before. She couldn’t remember when exactly
she started thinking about her future without him, but she did, and
life started to get better. Seeing him alive brought a rush of love,
regret, and relief. She almost didn’t notice that he nearly
flinched every time she mentioned freedom, or running away. He was
her favourite person, they were made together, to be a genetic match
as a couple for their entire short lives. Why she loved him didn’t
matter, whether it started when they were created in a lab or was
brought on by a mystical force, the feeling that she had to be with
him was stronger than any sensation she’d ever felt. If she didn’t
think he was dead, she would have never left.

Aspen tried to embrace
him but she was stopped short by the suit. He wrapped his arms around
her and she squeezed him as much as she was allowed to once they were
cheek to cheek. “I was torn apart,” she whispered against his
ear. He shushed her and said; “it’s all right, you’re where you
belong now.”

Aspen was chilled by
the thought of what may come, and inwardly cursed herself for not
realizing that the thought that she didn’t want to be brought back
hadn’t even occurred to Larken. She stepped back, steeling herself.

Larken regarded her
wordlessly for a moment then as his expression betrayed his
disappointment. “You’ve changed so much,” he said quietly. “The
Countess won’t be happy, but I’m glad you’re back. I missed you
so much, Aspen. I’m sure she did too, you’ll just have to earn
her trust, it’s going to take some time, but we owe her that much,
right?”

It made Aspen furious
to see Larken so obedient, he was much worse than before, but she hid
it, and nodded her response.

He took her hand, the
long sleeve of his loose silk robe complicating the gesture for a
moment, and smiled at her. “Good, let’s see if she’s ready for
you to attend to her. She’s so anxious to see you again that she
told me to wait for you and present you just as you are, so you’ll
have to bathe and change after.”

“Here we go,” she
said, eying the perimeter of the massive garden as he whirled towards
the platform ahead. His black, gold and white decorated robe billowed
in the breeze, and he took a moment to adjust it a little. The thing
was open down the middle of his chest, coming to a close at his
waist. Tight black leggings and sandals completed his simple outfit,
exactly the kind of thing a doll would wear.

A glow in the distance
to her left and right indicated that there was some kind of energy
shield surrounding the garden. There were also no designated spaces
for sliders or any other ground vehicles, meaning that they were
probably blocked or far from any civilized outpost. If the only way
in was by ship, she would have to find out where the new hangar was
and steal one. If the shield surrounded the entire complex, she’d
have even more work to do.

“Do you know where my
friends were taken?” she asked as she walked hand-in-hand with
Larken.

“Those people?” he
asked. “The vineyard always needs people, so probably there. Why?
Do you think any of them would be suitable to serve at court?”

“One, she’s dark
haired, named Sun,” Aspen replied. She hadn’t even thought of
suggesting that someone who was captured with her could be
transferred to the slave pool for court. It was a long shot at best,
and presenting the idea would have to happen at the right time.
“Let’s wait to mention it though, I’d rather have all the
attention on me while we’re celebrating my return.”

“So you missed court?
You missed the Countess?” Larken asked, brightening.

“I missed you,” she
said. “Maybe some of the clothes, my bed, but I missed you
constantly.” His mood was descending as she spoke so she added; “Of
course I missed the Countess, she’s like a mother to me, only
better.”

“Good, I’ll tell
her, make sure she knows you agree that leaving was a mistake.”

Anger boiled deep
within her, the servants they passed averted their gazes as she
walked by. They moved across the platform between the garish
fountains and tables filled with ultra-rich guests who wore the most
outrageous outfits. Aspen didn’t see any of the servants or slaves
she knew, and wondered if they survived the chaos as the machines
turned on them, or if they managed to use the opportunity to escape
like she did. Those were mysteries she could solve later.

The main foyer of the
palace was four stories tall with a polished black floor that was
polished to a reflective gloss. The alcoves along the walls featured
many of the fashion triumphs enjoyed by the Countess. Once upon a
time, when Aspen was still a child, she would look at those in
wonder, marvelling at the creativity and beauty. They looked silly,
and overly decadent to her now. Some of the dresses were so complex
that the Countess had to be carried from place to place, others had
multiple trains that drifted off the ground thanks to some kind of
device hidden in the folds of the cloth, and the most embarrassing
one – Aspen’s favourite for that very reason – reached up for
several metres in fluted lengths of white fabric that came back down
again, drooping like a willow tree around the Countess, who always
had difficulty maintaining her balance in the outfit.

Four guards in gilded
armour regarded Larken and her as they approached the tallest set of
double doors Aspen had ever seen. They were decorated with real gold
and platinum filigree that joined in the centre to form the
Countess’s house crest – a vine with grapes, a new born and a
shield hanging from it. The only symbol that seemed to suit the
countess was the grapes, as far as Aspen was concerned.

This was the main
audience chamber, she knew it, and Aspen took one last look around
for any means of escape. At a quick count there were two guards
standing behind each pillar along the foyer, making for at least
fourteen in the room, and they had all the doors covered. There was
no way out, she’d have to put up with the horrible creature again.

“This is our Aspen,
returned to us after a long absence,” Larken said. “The Countess
wanted to see her right away.”

“That’s not Aspen,
you’re joking. Her hair’s not the right colour, and Aspen would
never be so filthy,” one guard said, looking her up and down.

“Tell her we have
arrived,” Larken insisted.

One of the guards
turned his head, the underside of his jaw moving, he was talking into
his helmet communicator. They moved aside, the guard who assessed
Aspen guiding her and Larken to the side. “Behind the screen,
please,” she said, directing them to a screen in an alcove beside
the door that perfectly blended in with the finish on the walls. The
pair waited there, listening to the sound of the grand doors sliding
open with a rumble, then dozens of footsteps walking past.

Larken never let go of
her hand, and he tugged it to get her attention. “I don’t know if
I will have a chance to say this any time soon, but I didn’t
realize how much I loved you until you were gone. I’m so sorry I
didn’t act on it sooner, but they always had people watching us as
we were about to come of age.”

Aspen was about to
placate him, but his lips were planted on hers before she had a
chance. They were raised together like a pair of swans destined to be
paired for life, and he was her best friend growing up. She always
thought he was comely before, even used to watch him when she thought
he wasn’t looking but after he died – or rather, after she
thought he died – she mourned, and eventually allowed herself to
start noticing other men. Before long, she realized her tastes leaned
towards more masculine fellows, a scar was a story to her, callouses
were a sign of a hard worker, and imperfections made some people seem
more interesting. She still thought Larken was appealing, but in a
way that was perhaps pretty, not handsome. He was emasculated by the
cut of his robe, his perfect long hair, and the makeup that blushed
his cheeks and accentuated his blue eyes. She’d long since
abandoned the quest for cosmetic perfection. Her daily regimen
included bathing, and a little colour or gloss on her lips when it
wore off.