Greg

Nobody Left Behind 14

Added 2025-04-13 15:35:08 +0000 UTC

Sarsuk dating Nyakkat.

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———

Dating Nyakkat was … strained. Not because of anything she said or did, but because Sarsuk suspected she was using him. Sometimes, when he was alone and the slaves were all hidden away in their barracks, he’d practice his laugh in the mirror, roaring just as loud and as hard as he was able. He’d point at his face in the mirror, preparing for the day when Nyakkat would spring her con, when she’d ask him for money.

But mostly, he worried. He worried how people looked at the two of them when they were out in public. He worried about the day when she’d finally reveal her treachery. He worried about being alone once she’d realized her mistake.

His stomach ached, and in a way, he wanted it over with. He enjoyed the attention she lavished on him, but he felt a tightness in his stomach he was sure would never go away.

Sarsuk came home early from work so he could prepare for his date. His cleaning crew—geroo he’d “borrowed” from one of the ships he oversaw—scrambled to vacate the living room. The slaves knew he didn’t allow them out while he was home, but of course, he hadn’t warned them he’d be early.

Instead of hiding—thank goodness, he really hated when they did that—the crew stacked up in a bunch around the airlock. The lock leading to their barracks was quite large compared to the ones on the gateship they’d come from, but even then, it would take them some time for all four dozen or so to get through. Ten would enter, lock the outer hatch behind them, cycle the air, unlock the inner hatch, clamber out, then they’d lock the inner hatch behind them, and cycle the air once more before the next set of ten could start the process.

He could have just ignored them, let them leave, but he yearned for someone other than Nyakkat to talk to. He walked over to the little airlock and flopped down on the carpet. Most of the crew had returned to their barracks at this point, but he put his thumb over the hatch, cutting off any escape for the three little mammals remaining.

The slave closest to him fell to his knees. Even if he knew their names, he wouldn’t recognize which it was as the plastic environment suits obscured them completely save for a bit of their faces. He put a paw to the side of his helmet and activated a broadcast channel that the krakun could hear over his communicator. The geroo cried, “Please, sir, we’re trying to clear out of here as quickly as we can! We didn’t know you’d be home early.”

“Tell me…” said Sarsuk slowly, his thumb still over the airlock hatch. “Are you familiar with my girlfriend, Nyakkat?”

A long silence fell over the apartment before the slave squeaked, “What?”

“My girlfriend,” repeated the krakun. “Long, skinny, colorful? She’s come over a few times lately. Are you familiar with her?”

“Sir,” the geroo said, glancing up so briefly that Sarsuk only got a look at his green eyes, “we’re not allowed out while you’re at home.”

“I know you’re not allowed out,” the commissioner bellowed. Then, reclaiming his composure, he repeated, “Are you familiar with her?”

When the tiny creature didn’t reply immediately, Sarsuk scooped him up, held him in his palm. He didn’t close his claw around the mammal, but he took care to lift him high enough as to discourage the little thing from jumping away.

The geroo cowered with head lowered. Over the broadcast, he begged, “Please sir! Don’t take my helmet off! Had we known you were going to be home early, we would have finished up sooner!”

“I would never…” said Sarsuk, letting his angry words fade off. Oh yeah, right, I did do that to one of you guys once. He’d nearly forgotten. Well, not so much forgotten, considering what krakun memory was like, but the entire event was such a … non-event, just a footnote in an otherwise boring day. He’d caught a slave roaming the apartment at night and as punishment, had made him run back to the airlock without his helmet, through the deadly sulfuric air.

I wonder if he survived, Sarsuk mused briefly. Probably not. Running that far without taking a breath would have been a long shot at best.

“Yes, we know about your girlfriend,” the geroo said suddenly, shaking the krakun from his thoughts.

“Good,” said the krakun. He rolled a question around in his mind, not certain that he would actually voice it. There was a real patheticness in asking, but then again, who cared what these insignificant creatures thought? They were completely irrelevant. “Do you think she’s using me?”

A very long pause followed before the geroo squeaked, “Using you?”

“Yes,” groaned the krakun. “Using me. She wants something—everybody does—but she’s only pretending to like me until she can get it.”

The geroo said nothing. He just cowered in Sarsuk’s palm and trembled.

“Well? Do you think that’s what she’s doing?” he demanded, slightly softer this time.

The creature did nothing for a long moment, but then he tilted his helmet slightly up—just enough for Sarsuk to see his face through the helmet’s visor. Sarsuk knew that face, though he wouldn’t realize it until much, much later.

Over the radio, Kanti whispered, “Do you?”

Yes! he wanted to scream, but of course, he didn’t. He’d been hoping the little person would have answered, though he wasn’t certain what he truly had wanted to hear—a lie to save his skin or the truth.

In the end, Sarsuk said nothing. He dumped the geroo on his tail—not from high enough to cause any real harm, but with far less care than someone would take if they actually worried about such things—and he watched while the suited creature escaped through the airlock. The rest of the crew had left while he talked to the one, and so he cycled through the airlock alone.

Then, Sarsuk leaned back against the wall that contained their home while he pondered his situation and the lonely apartment around him.

# # #

When Kanti emerged from the airlock, the rest of the crew swarmed around him, greeted him, and touched him tenderly, but they all made room for the three he most wanted to see: his mate, Tish, his best friend, Suni, and his daughter, Rahua.

His daughter was the easiest, so he dealt with her first. He scooped the cub up and squeezed her close, let her put her pudgy arms around his neck. Kanti doubted she was old enough to truly understand the danger he’d been in, but parenthood had taught him just how perceptive cubs could be. Though mostly, he felt, they picked up on everyone else’s worry rather than understanding the situation directly.

“Daddy’s fine,” he whispered as he rocked her. “There’s no reason to cry. Daddy’s fine.”

When she had calmed, he faced his mate next. Held low, her ears were stern but not unkind. “You’re lucky you’re so lucky,” she said, kissing his lips.

“I should already be dead,” he reminded her, returning the kiss. And everyone knew that to be true. He’d come closer to a point of no return on more occasions than anyone ever deserved. “Every moment I get now is ‘bonus time’. I feel obligated to wring every drop I can from them.”

That seemed to satisfy Tish for now. He knew they’d talk more later, but he really needed to speak with Suni first.

No sooner had Kanti transferred his daughter into his mate’s arms, Suni slugged him in the chest—not as hard as she could have, probably, but far harder than a friendly, “I can’t believe you did that!” sort of gesture.

“Ow,” he groaned, taking a moment to rub at the spot. Hunger had cost him muscle mass, leaving his bones with less padding than he’d like. He turned his attention to the crowd briefly, announcing, “It’s all over, folks. No big deal. Let’s get dinner going and settle in.”

The crowd dispersed into the concrete vault they called a barracks. Despite having access to enough products to clean a krakun-sized apartment, the dingy room stunk of fear musk and sweat. Their air flow was poor, and the space was so tiny that they lived practically one atop another with no privacy whatsoever.

Suni stewed for a moment more, waiting while the crowd thinned before hissing, “No big deal?”

At that, he could only shrug. He wrapped his arms around his best friend, and though she struggled for a moment, she eventually returned the embrace.

“You were very courageous,” she finally conceded. “Better that idiot lizard focus on you rather than hurt anyone else. But it was still a stupid risk.”

He shrugged again. “I know.” What else could he say?

Kanti’s life was legend among the apartment building’s slaves. Sarsuk believed the scruffy geroo had disintegrated in the recycler, and Kanti’s two-year slavery to the sourang had left him genetically changed and able to breathe sulfurous air. He wished that had been true of Suni’s mate, Dekka. One whiff of it without his helmet had done him in.

“Even if losing your helmet won’t hurt you,” Suni reminded him, “the ancestors help you if Commissioner Sarsuk ever realizes you’re still alive. He’ll make your exit look like Dekka’s passing was a party.”

“I know, Suni, I know,” he whispered, “but I’m the only one here with this ability. I’ve gotta use it for good. Don’t I? He could have hurt any of those geroo still out there. I had to give them time to get away.”

The tears that had been threatening to escape Suni’s eyes broke free, and the younger geroo crumpled from whimpering to crying to sobbing with renewed grief.

Kanti held her in his arms. Suni wasn’t over her mate’s death, and he didn’t know if she’d ever be. Every brush with the krakun brought it all back to the surface. He whispered, “I know. We all miss him.” He wiped at his own eyes as he lowered them both to the concrete floor. “If I could change anything, I’d bring him back. We all would.”