Trapped: Chaos Core Book 1 (5 page)

A soft brown and green
cloak was wrapped around her shoulders, cloth twigs and leaves were
sewn into the garment. The tall furry woman regarded her for a
moment, tilting her head and looking at the robe. “It fits, and it
hides all but your neck and face, exactly as the Countess ordered.”

“Then why did I just
get painted?”

“That is an excellent
question that I can’t answer, my dear. I’m Tonic.”

“It’s good to meet
you,” Aspen replied.

“I’ll be dressing
you until you eventually escape,” she replied in a whisper. “Don’t
say anything, I just know that’s how your time here will end. There
is something about you that tells me that this won’t last long.”

Aspen raised the sides
of her cloak high enough to surround her face so only Tinick could
see her and mouthed; “Can you help me?”

Tinick laughed cheerily
and shook her head. “I’m from the theatre, a place where we
understand the importance of timing, you understand. If someone comes
in too early, they embarrass themselves, too late and they show a
kind of unprofessionalism that leads to even deeper humiliation. When
treading the boards of a great house, either one is akin to death. If
there’s any help I can offer, it’s only a lesson in timing.”

The message was fairly
clear to Aspen, she had to time whatever she did just right, wait for
the right opportunity and make sure she didn’t miss it. She decided
that she could help hide the tip by asking a clever question. “Am I
part of any performances tonight? Is there anything I shouldn’t
miss? I’d hate to make things worse by disappointing the Countess
even more.”

“You are an ornament
this evening, the Countess is only interested in showing the court
that you have returned, but she doesn’t want anyone to see that
you’ve changed. You know, I think you look healthier than the one
who was dieted and primped to specification, but what do I know? I’ve
only been designing and costuming for thirty years. I would say stand
still, pay attention, and try not to fall asleep on your feet.”

“So, all I’m
getting is this robe, and I’ll be standing there all night,”
Aspen said. “Dais deco mode.”

“As far as I know,”
Tinick said, tugging the hood up and fixing it into place. “Our
time is finished for today, I’ll see you tomorrow morning. I’m
supposed to make you look unrealistically skinny using nothing but my
wits and clothing, so that’s something you can look forward to.”
The silver furred creature rolled her eyes and shook her head.

Aspen left the room,
looking forward to seeing the new designer again, but not looking
forward to whatever measures it might take to create the illusion
that she hadn’t gained weight since she escaped. It irked her that
she would be forced to lose centimetres, she felt healthy, and no one
ever complained about her appearance when she was free.

The ball was already
under way, and palace guards met Aspen as soon as she emerged from
the wardrobe room with her cloak closed all the way down. There was
nothing but dye underneath, and Aspen wasn’t interested in putting
a show on before she had to. Her stomach grumbled. There had been
plenty to drink, some of it thick and sweet, not much of it
identified, but it seemed that within minutes of her mouth leaving a
straw, hunger began creeping back.

Following the guards to
the side entrance of the ball room, she asked them; “neither of you
would have anything to eat on you, would you? I’ll flash a little
leg for half a meal bar, c’mon.”

The guard on the left
chuckled, the other shook his head.

“I’ll open right up
for a hot Power Pocket,” she added, opening the top of her robe a
few centimetres.

The one who shook his
head slipped her a meal bar and said; “No flashing required. You
didn’t get that from me, right?”

“You are my saviour,
and its bad luck to rat on someone who saves your butt,” Aspen said
as she hid it in the neck of her robe and took a big bite. They were
in the narrow side entrance to the ball room, waiting for a red light
to go on above their heads. “You get double points for chocolate,
oh my God, thank you.” She said through a full mouth.

“Hurry up and scarf
that down,” the other guard said, chuckling.

The bar was gone too
soon, but she was happy to have had solid food without getting
caught. “Thanks again, um, which one are you?”

“No names,” he
replied. “That way I won’t get fired or killed over a meal bar.”

“Good point.”

The light above her
head turned red and the doors opened silently, cool mist rolling in
front of it. The lights in the ball room were dimmed, and Aspen could
see the stars through the tall windows at the other end of the hall.

There was a clear lane
between hundreds of gathered guests leading to the middle of the
massive vaulted room. Dead leaves lined the aisles with faint green
light between. Aspen saw that Larken was already approaching from the
other side of the hall, horns protruding from his head, brown dye and
paints applied so he looked like he belonged in some ancient
woodland. He was more muscular than she remembered, and Aspen hoped
that the costumer was right, that there was nothing special planned
for her that night.

When they met in the
middle, Larken gently took her in his arms. “A little kiss,” he
said before planting his lips on hers for a lingering moment, then he
walked her to the foot of the Countess’s throne. “I present your
Aspen, once lost in the wild, now found and returned,” he said to
her.

Aspen followed his lead
as he bowed deeply. All Aspen could see were the Countess’s
green-shod feet, she was bowing so low, and for a long moment she
remained frozen in place.

“Welcome home,” was
all the Countess had to say to set the courtiers off in a torrent of
polite clapping. The sound made her cringe, but Aspen made sure she
was smiling brightly when the Countess’ long fingers touched her
forehead, then directed her and Larken to take their places to her
right and left.

Given a moment of
quiet, even from the right side of the dais, Aspen’s thoughts
returned to the crewmembers who were delivered to the Countess
because they tried to help her. She couldn’t help but wonder where
her friends were, what they were doing, and how she’d get them out
of the mess she’d gotten them into.

The membership of the
Countess’ court was a mixture of the military, government, and
social elite. It had been too long, and the mad machines had killed
too many of the old wealthy courtiers, or at least that’s the
assumption Aspen made. She didn’t recognize any of the faces out of
the two hundred or more people in the massive space. In the dim
light, she only saw clothes stuffed with unfamiliar humans. United
Core Authority uniforms socialized with revealing dresses and tight
summer suits, while less fashionable suits and dresses adorned with
government seals mixed between awkwardly. These were the people who
had to work harder to find their way to the social elite, the ones
that were elected, or planted, or controlled and generally
disrespected by everyone else. She’d seen it before. Few government
officials had the respect of the ultra-wealthy or the highest ranks
in the military. Either group could have someone in government
replaced, but it wasn’t so easy to supplant the wealthy or the
military.

The faces were
different, but the dynamic was the same, leading Aspen to wonder if
she would find a friendly maverick amongst them. There was always at
least one person who thought differently, respected life more than
the rest, and would bend the rules for the sake of doing something
different. They were often easy to spot either because they were more
flamboyant or deeply, obviously bored. She had to find them fast,
earn their trust or at least intrigue them enough to get their help.
Her friends were waiting, and she didn’t want to put up with the
Countess’ lifestyle for a minute longer than she had to.

The revelation that
Larken was alive made everything complicated. If it weren’t for him
she would take the first chance she had to slip away and get the
information she needed from the computer. At the next opportunity,
she’d steal a ship and do whatever she could to get her friends,
but Larken was still deluded to think that he was living a good life
with the Countess, that she saw him as something other than property.

Every time she looked
into his eyes she wanted to kiss him, and she wanted to slap him. He
seemed dazed to her, like she just needed the right words or the
right image to wake him from his daydream and then they could leave
together. There were layers of security, faithful courtiers that
could get in their way, but if her taste of freedom taught her
anything, it was that luck favoured decisive people who took the
initiative. She’d find her way out, she’d find the right time,
and Aspen hoped she could convince Larken to go with her when it
came.

Her thoughts were
interrupted as one of the courtiers, an older woman started crossing
the empty space between the dais and her. She was in a simpler dress
that celebrated new blooms with bits of fabric hanging off like
leaves and flower petals all the way down. It was equipped with a
hood that the woman kept half up and toyed with. “Are you in there,
Aspen?” she asked, smiling.

Aspen recognized her
voice right away. “Instructor Emani? You look very healthy
tonight,” she said, priding herself on replacing the word ‘young’
with ‘healthy’ the instant before she said it. Her old instructor
in most things from politics, to finances, to life skills looked
twenty years younger than she did when Aspen was eight.

“It’s a long story,
but I was caught in the attack that nearly killed the Countess and
they decided to give me more years while I was in recovery. It’s
good to see you healthy and whole, Aspen.”

“I used-“ Aspen
corrected herself before going on. “I was forced to use so much of
what you taught me while I was away. I don’t think I would have
survived if I didn’t spend years learning from you.”

“Flatterer,” she
said. “I should have you speak to the new ones I’m teaching.
They’re more fitful than you were at that age. Do you think you may
need some brushing up? We could do both at the same time.”

“That sounds good, I
would serve much better if I could catch up on what’s been
happening while I’ve been gone. I’m sure a lot has changed,”
Aspen said. There was no sign that her instructor was hinting at
anything more than she was saying, though she watched her every move
just in case the older woman had some tip for her.

“It’s set then,
tomorrow afternoon unless something comes up for you,” Instructor
Emani said. “Good to see you again,” she said before drifting
back towards the crowd.

Broad trays piled high
with tasty morsels were brought in from the left and right entrances.
They moved past the dais, to the Countess first, then to Larken and
Aspen. She was just looking forward to taking a cream filled
strawberry when the Countess looked to the servers. “She doesn’t
need anything tonight.”

Aspen remained in her
place stoically as she watched the server with the first fruit tray
regard her with sympathy before moving on to the rest of the room.
She flashed him a brief smile, knowing that his lot was much worse
than hers. The slave quarters were a place of harsh discipline and
hard work.

Watching the crowd of
guests socialize, dance but most of all eat and drink started to get
on Aspens’ nerves before long. The first thing she complained about
when she won her freedom was the immediate reduction in the quality
of the food, that was, until she ran out. She faced real starvation
and dehydration a few times in the early days, but once she joined
the crew of the Cool Angel her food and water worries came to an end.
There was a lot to complain about there, but she never found herself
without some kind of food within reach. Compared to most crewmembers,
she ate very little, so much so her Lieutenant, Sun often encouraged
her to eat more.

“I think I’ll
retire for the evening,” the Countess said. She had spoken to only
five courtiers, and didn’t mingle at all, something that surprised
Aspen. When she was in service before, her throne was constantly
surrounded, the chattering used to remind her of a hen house from the
organic ranch. A look at the new courtiers suggested that they may be
afraid of the Countess, or perhaps shied by her appearance.

Even her consort, Kort,
was absent. Aspen silently hoped he was killed when the machines
turned. She also hoped that she wouldn’t be pressed into
socializing on the Countess’ behalf. As Larken and her approached
adulthood they were pressed into service as negotiators and general
socializers in her court. Most of the people she met were vain, proud
and in search of praise or some other prize. Some would proposition
her tirelessly, something Larken had to put up with only a little
less. A few became friends, and she found none in the crowd that
night.

“You may both
retire,” the Countess said as she carefully stood and exited using
a special door hidden behind her throne. Her dress was surprisingly
unremarkable, white with blue highlights that flowed down the
extensive length.

The courtiers didn’t
seem to pay much attention to the Countess’s departure. Larken was
at her side, taking her hand the moment the door sealed behind the
Countess. He led her from the hall into a servant’s corridor.
“Where are we going?” Aspen asked.

“I’m taking you to
my rooms, I can’t wait to spend time away with you, and to get this
dye off,” he said as he rushed through the narrower corridors with
their scuffed walls and floors. Servants dressed in loose white
tunics and gold leggings let them pass as they held trays piled with
drinks.

Aspen couldn’t help
but snatch two high, frosty, fruity glasses. The slave, a girl just
old enough to serve, smiled at her, amused by the theft. Larken
stopped and looked back at Aspen when her hand slipped from his and
she gave him one of the stolen drinks.