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Beth watched, quietly holding her breath, as Niktus bargained hard with Gorshun for the remaining three U.T.s. Once she had them, she could use the first one to program the others in minutes via infrared link. Then Ally and Jorja could communicate with their owners, and perhaps they could all figure a way out of this mess.
Gorshun, Beth knew, would want to know why Niktus was so interested in these mysterious boxes that didn't appear to do anything. During her talks with the man, Beth learned he was considered a healer in the village. His treatments consisted of herb teas, setting bones, and bleeding for fevers—not all that dissimilar from Earth four centuries ago.
Before they arrived at Gorshun's hut, Beth suggested Niktus tell him that the strange women needed the devices to remain healthy in this country's heat. Niktus agreed that would strike fear into the slave trader. "He wouldn't want to have customers coming back, demanding a refund!" he laughed.
The ruse worked. Niktus and Beth left with the U.T.s and grinned all the way back to his house. Inside, she quickly programmed the devices. Then she handed two of them over. The third she saved for Greta.
"Go make some profit," she said. He nodded, a smile creasing his face.
Beth was really beginning to like this alien.
Jorja looked up from her bedding to see a strange man standing over her. She sat up quickly, her collar chain clinking, and spotted Junior and his father behind him. The newcomer stood about six-four—somewhat short by this race's standards—but was broad in the chest and had powerful arms and legs. Jorja couldn't help but think he was pretty good-looking for an alien.
He spoke to her, several sentences. Jorja just shrugged and said, "Sorry, pal, I don't understand you. But if you were inviting me out for a dinner and a movie, I'd probably say yes."
The man turned and spoke a few harsh sentences to the other men. The older man said something in reply that apparently angered this man. He responded curtly and started to leave.
The door opened suddenly, and an older man Jorja didn't recognize came in, followed by—Beth!
"Beth! Thank God!" Jorja exclaimed. "I wondered what happened to you and the others!"
"Jorja! I'm glad you're all right. We've got U.T.s!" the doctor replied. "We can talk now."
Niktus spoke to the owners for a few minutes. The stranger just watched, his face set. Niktus turned on one of the devices and spoke to Jorja. "Slave, stand up."
"Fuck y—" She started to say.
"For God's sake, Jorja, just do what he says. He's trying to make a sale here," Beth said, exasperated.
Swallowing her pride, Jorja stood. The other three men appeared stunned.
"Now, lift one leg."
Jorja stared at Beth. "He's kidding, right?"
"Please, Jorja!"
The engineer reluctantly complied, then put her leg down again almost immediately. The men began talking among themselves, so fast the U.T. could barely keep up.
"Amazing!"
"—never seen anything—"
"—means we can train her." The last came from the newcomer.
Jorja didn't like what she was hearing. "OK, we can all understand each other. So understand this: I'm not a slave. None of us are. We come from another, uh, country, where women are free. You must release us."
"I'm afraid it's not that simple, Jorja," Beth put in. "This entire culture is based on the enslavement of women. They can't conceive of letting us go."
"We have to try, doc!"
"I know. It may take a little time to figure something out."
Niktus cut Beth off with a wave of his hand. To the men, he said, "You have seen how the magic boxes work. Everyone who owns strange slave should have one until she learns our language."
The men nodded. The bargaining began. Beth didn't know their monetary system here, but it was clear from Niktus' pleased expression that he made a good profit.
Beth and Niktus turned to go. "Wait! You're not going to leave me here with these guys!"
"I'm sorry, Jorja. We have to go find the man who bought Ally. We'll be back, I promise. For now, at least you can talk to them."
With that, they left. When the door slapped shut on Beth, Jorja felt abandoned all over again. Still, at least she had hope. If anyone can figure out these people, it's Beth.
"I am Dolnark," the older man said. "This is my son, Gulnark. This man is trainer, Keltar."
"I am Jorja Smith of the free nation of Earth." She didn't dare tell them Earth was another planet.
"Yes, but you are here now. I own you," Dolnark said. "I have given you to my son."
"And I must be satisfied," put in the younger man. "You must be punished for what you did."
"In our country, we don't allow men to mate with us on street corners," Jorja huffed.
"You are not in your country," Gulnark pointed out. "Now it is time for you to earn profit. If not, you shall be punished."
Before Jorja could respond, Keltar grabbed her upper arm. "Slave, it is time to go," he said. Gulnark stepped forward to unlock her collar chain.
"Go? Go where?"
"To the training area. To prepare."
"Prepare for what?" Jorja looked at the other two men. They had Cheshire cat grins on their faces.
"You are big fighter, hurt my son," the older man said. "Now we make money from you. You go with Keltar. He train you for jamkalut."
The U.T. didn't have an equivalent word. "What is jamkalut?" she asked.
Keltar smiled. "Fight. Contest. Much fun."
Jorja paled. "You're going to put me in a ring with another poor girl and make us fight?"
The men all laughed when the translation was made clear. "No, no," Keltar said. "You fight man."
As the men explained it in more detail, Jorja began shaking her head. Apparently, for entertainment, the men held matches of some sort in the public square. Villagers turned out and bet on the outcomes. The fighters were all hardened men, well trained and probably deadly.
"There's no way I'm going to do that," she said. "Even if I did, I'd be killed. I can't fight one of these huge guys."
"No choice," Dolnark said. "You hurt my son in front of villagers. He earned revenge. You fight, or you suffer punishments."
"Then I'll…" She trailed off. She couldn't let them beat her like a dog! "What happens if I win? Will I be allowed to go home?"
"No. But my son will feel better about losing to slave. If you can beat fighter, you can beat many man in village."
"I am sure we will have many fine matches in future," Keltar put in.
"Well, forget it, boys. I'm not going to fight. The man will win, and your son will look like a wimp."
There were some puzzled looks. Apparently, "wimp" did not translate well. Jorja didn't care.
"If you refuse to fight, then maybe another Earth woman can be made to fight," Gulnark said, smirking. "Perhaps the light-haired one."
Jorja knew he meant Greta. "You bastard! I'll kick your ass all over again!" She lunged at him, but Keltar hauled her back by her arm. The father and Keltar laughed when Gulnark shrank back. His face darkened over the embarrassment.
Jorja turned and tried to knock the man's grip loose, but he parried her blows easily. "You have strength, speed. It will be a pleasure to ready you."
"Do you think she'll be ready by Dulston's matches?" Gulnark asked.
Keltar shrugged. "Cannot say now. Will have to study her. Never heard of a slave fight before."
"Who will she be matched against?"
"Don't know. Ask me tomorrow. Now, let me have magic box so I can train her."
Gulnark reluctantly handed it over. "You take good care of that. It's worth many quitnums."
Keltar just nodded, snapped his leash onto Jorja's collar, and dragged her out. As much as she wanted to be away from the old man and his son, she was more afraid of this brooding, taciturn trainer.
Once they were outside, he surprised her by smiling at her. "If what villagers say is true, we make good profit."
Escorting her to the cart, she was further amazed to be allowed to ride up front. "I didn't think slaves rode up here," she commented.
"They do not. Will make villagers talk. They know who I am. They will wonder about you."
Jorja couldn't help but laugh. "In our country, it would be called marketing."
The joke was lost on Keltar. "I did not see what you did to Gulnark, and I am sorry I missed it. That boy needed a lesson. To have a slave beat him up!" He guffawed loudly.
"You don't like him?"
"No. He is braggart. His father is village elder, so son does what he please. No good."
Jorja smiled. Finally! Someone who agrees with me. "Why is he making me fight stranger? Why not try to fight me himself?"
Keltar laughed again. "Good point! I think he is afraid of you. He is already embarrassed. Cannot bear to lose twice, so he calls for substitute. But I think I know his strategy. He will bet on you to lose, and hope you win."
Jorja was confused. "I don't understand."
"If you win, it will show village that he is not weak, that good fighter could not beat you. If you lose, he makes profit."
Ahh, she thought. That makes sense. These people love a profit. "The way women are treated in this village, it's a wonder anyone will bet on me to win."
"True. But many people watched your fight with the boy. Even now, word is going from house to house. By the time match comes up, you could be big hero, very strong fighter."
"What if I bet on myself to win—can I win my freedom back, along with the other women of my tribe?"
"Maybe. If you had a man to make bids for you. If a man make enough money on match." He slapped the reins on the donkey's back. "For now, I want to see what magic you have in arena."