Stars Beyond Reach

CH 7- PUNISHMENT

Superior Kristoff was also a human. The only other one Chérif had seen during her time at Compound 41. Though she knew there were more of her species in the other compounds, they'd placed her apart from them for some reason. Perhaps it was an attempt to make her give up sooner, which hadn't worked, obviously. He was tall, thin, and blond. Probably of Nordic descent if Chérif could remember her old history lessons correctly. She'd only been to actual school until she was thirteen and then had stopped going to help her family with their farming operation. They'd run a Chinese cabbage and long bean facility on an outpost near Modeluis 1 and it'd taken almost every member pitching in in order to meet the monthly quota. It'd been hard work and perhaps that was part of the reason Chérif was so resilient. Farmer's blood ran through her veins.

Now she was nineteen, imprisoned at the compound for three years where she was forced to be a part of Superior Kristoff's operation. Her job was to mindlessly dig holes day in and day out, which would later be filled with various plants by another stone-faced slave. Her first months there, Chérif had desperately tried to talk to the others around her, but most had been there for so long that they'd barely acknowledged her attempts at conversation. She'd cried herself to sleep every night for a year, the most intense loneliness she'd ever felt nearly suffocating her. She was the only survivor of the massacre on her outpost. She'd watched them all die, brutally, at the hands of fearsome purple-skinned men. Now, no matter what Kristoff did to her, she wasn't about to lay down and let her entire family line be wiped away, leaving only a footnote through all of history. She would escape.

Margut jerked her rope, causing her to stumble into the room. She glared at him, but he had eyes only for his boss.

"You found her." It was a statement said with much relish. Superior Kristoff rose from behind his desk and clapped his thin hands together once.

"Leave them tied?" Margut asked, indicating her wrists.

Well." Kristoff moved slowly toward them, favoring his right leg as always. His hair glowed white from the fading sun behind him. "We know that if we remove the rope, she will, in all likelihood, attempt to take on both of us and escape once more." His lips peeled back in a small smile. He had the straightest teeth Chérif had ever seen. She wanted to knock them all out, so his stupid smile would be nothing but broken bits of bone and torn flesh.

"So instead of removing the ties," he continued, "perhaps we remove something of more value."

Chérif felt her stomach drop, but she steeled herself to be brave. Whatever it was, she would take it. Anything for freedom. Margut shifted beside her.

Kristoff held out his pale hand to the Moordo expectantly. "Your blade, please."

Margut considered the implications for a moment and then removed it from his jacket. Kristoff held it up to the light. Then he laughed softly. "Is that Moordo blood I see?" One of Margut's hands came up slowly to cover his chest wound. The orange smear was crusty now. "My, my." Kristoff's gaze landed back on Chérif, "Yes, those hands certainly need to be taught a lesson."

He grabbed her wrists in his sharp grip. It startled her, but she managed not to make a sound. The knife blade bit into her skin.

"If you ruin my hands, how will I work?" she choked out. He'd warned her to call him Superior, but the word tasted too bitter on her tongue.

Kristoff narrowed his eyes. A bead of her blood popped up from under the tip of the blade. "Was branding you not enough?" he growled. "Perhaps I should resort to the cat o'nine tails like my barbaric ancestors?"

Chérif felt a shiver up her spine. She knew what that was, she'd seen photos, heard tales, but she'd never known anyone who'd been hit with one. They weren't really used anymore. Superior Kristoff seemed to think modern day punishments weren't effective and was always reading back in time to see what things he could inflict on his charges. Hence the branding she'd received, though it'd been done with a painful laser and not an actual hot iron.

"Why not take her hair again?" Margut suggested. He was uneasy with where this was going. It was his job to keep the slave stock healthy and the labor done on time and if she was whipped with one of those, he couldn't imagine her being able to work again for awhile. Humans were fragile. And it would be a shame to leave a lasting mark on such a smooth exterior.

"Obviously, that's not good enough." Kristoff leaned close enough to Chérif's face to leave spit residue. Suddenly he moved the knife to the side of her face. "I'm tired of seeing your face, back in my office every time I turn around. You think you're not able to be broken. You think you're better than me." The last word was punctuated with a slap of the cool metal to her cheek. He leaned back. "Are we not good to you here? When I bought you, I was told you were an orphan. That you had no one." Crossing his arms, he stared hard at her. "So really, you should be grateful. Where would you be without me? There are much worse slave compounds you know."

Next to her, Margut nodded slightly. Chérif felt like screaming. Did he really believe what he was saying? That she should be grateful?

"My family is dead," she said through gritted teeth. "But they were killed by your men so that you could have me as a slave."

Kristoff blinked. "Is that what you think?" He truly looked offended. "That I'm nothing but a murderous, plundering thief who barges onto planets and takes labor by force?" His face had the most color she'd ever seen on it. "I run a respectful operation here. Everything is legal." He glanced at Margut. "And all of my labor is paid for from the money that my working farm brings in."

Chérif clenched her fists as he stepped in close to her again.

"Thing is, girl, I own you fair and square. Those guys I did the transaction with, they're the ones you have a bone to pick with." Gently, he cradled her bound hands in his. "Not that you will ever have time for that. You've got work to do."

It wasn't true. She knew Kristoff had been the one to take her. He had to be. She didn't have the energy to be angry at a whole other group as well.

"Extend her hours for two weeks, Margut. Only a two hour break for sleeping. Rations down to the bare minimum." He squeezed her hands, hard. "You owe me."

After he opened the door to her unit, Margut let her walk in, then filled the doorway.

"Clean yourself. Then report to work field alpha to start. The clock will begin when you pick up the digger."

She stood facing the wall, with her back to him. The only thing she wanted to do was lay down and sleep. Her mind felt fuzzy and distant and she wished she was still able to cry. But once she stopped two years ago, she'd never been able to start again. She longed for that release.

"He let you off easy. I'd be on my guard." Margut's rough voice washed over her.

Chérif touched her wrist where Kristoff had pierced her skin. It wasn't bleeding anymore. Margut was right, that couldn't be the end to her punishment, but she guessed in his upset at having been accused of being a slave thief, he'd been thrown off track. Or maybe he was really trying to make her feel a sense of gratitude toward him.

She said nothing and finally, Margut slid the door shut.