Meanwhile, women and children surround us, shopping and perusing the wares on offer at all the dozens of stalls.
The Royal Guards are everywhere, adorned in their gleaming, Royal Red power-armor. I doubt any of them will recognize me, but I still lower my face as we approach them.
“The finest silks from Oasis!” A stallholder yells out at us, lifting a beautiful roll of glimmering fabric toward us.
“The finest wines on Deemak,” bellows another, gesturing to bottles and barrels that I imagine might even pique the interest of Varian’s refined palette
Yet another merchant is roasting womps from the desert – the succulent marsupial that I’ve only tasted once. You don’t find meat of that species at a Sector 3 or 4 markets, since it draws a steep enough price to be affordable only to those of the higher tiers of Deemak society.
I once snuck into a Sector 2 market, and nearly lost my hand stealing a cut of womp. I ate my ill-gotten feast in a back-alley, and it was as delicious as people had claimed.
My stomach grumbles loudly, and Sarah laughs, hearing it even over the bustle of the marketplace. She snaps her fingers at the vendor. “A cut of womp, please.”
The merchant grins.
“For Gallus’s women? The finest cuts only,” The burly man quickly carves from the tenderloin of the roasting creature. He hands a wrapped serving over to me, steam rising from the still-bubbling juices. Sarah throws enough credits his way to have fed me for a month back in my rented room at The Stag.
“Sarah! That’s way too much! You completely overpaid!”
“Who cares?” Sarah laughs. “They all love us here. Why not spread the good cheer?”
Sarah is improving Aurelian-Human relations with every trip to the marketplace, I see. Given her behavior, and the quite generosity of Gallus, Cyrus and Varian, it’s perhaps not difficult to understand why there isn’t the same bitter resentment of the Aurelians that stews in most now-independent worlds, where the mantel of Aurelian protection has been thrown off… and crime and corruption often adopted instead.
Still, those worlds are a million miles away from this bustling, vibrant marketplace. I ignore such thoughts and instead breathe in the scent of the freshly-roasted womp. I can’t resist taking a bite – and the soft meat melts beneath my tongue. This could be the last time I taste such luxury.
“Now, don’t fill up, Mia,” Sarah warns. “We’ve got plenty more eating to do before the day is done.”
I wipe the juices from my chin.
“Challenge accepted!”
So, eat we do. I push back thoughts of the Aurelians and the stolen goods weighing heavily in my pocket as we enjoy the markets. For a few hours, at least, it’s like living someone else’s life – somebody blissfully unburdened by the guilt I carry, and the destiny I feel I can’t avoid.
That’s what my whole experience in the harem has been like – living a fantasy.
But the fantasy is coming to an end. Even as I enjoy the sights, sounds and smells of the marketplace, I’m planning my escape inside my head; instinctively looking for the opportunity to duck out and slip from Sarah’s company.
Soon, I’ve formulated exactly what I’m going to do. The white ship is above us, hovering and monitoring us constantly – watching, waiting, protecting...
I lick the last spoonful of the sweet-fruit gelato that we’d bought at the last stall, and then motion to a tailor. “We need to get you a pleasure dress, Sarah.”
She bites her lip, smiling. “So, that’s what they had you wearing last night.”
I give her a gentle push on the shoulder, urging her towards the vendor. “Let’s just hope you have enough credits. You spent a fortune on that gelato, you know.”
“I know, I know,” Sarah replies, giggling.
We reach the shop. There’s a brief moment of haggling with the vendor before Sarah is brought behind a curtain to try the expensive, luxurious gown…
…and that’s my cue to leave.
I slowly unclasp the necklace.
I feel them leaving me – those three Aurelians.
As I lay the necklace on the counter, I feel all hope of a different future disappearing.
I duck out of the shop, while the shopkeeper’s back is turned.
A moment later, I’m moving fast through the busy marketplace. From the corner of my eye, I watch the ship above me. It tracks my movements, then stops – as if it’s unsure as to which of us to follow. After a second, it decides to follow me.
Dammit!
I walk quickly, but not at a run – letting myself move more or less naturally through the crowds. They no longer part the way they did when I had the sapphire necklace broadcasting my status as the plaything of the Aurelians, but I still know how to make my way through a throng of passersby.
As I stride quickly through the market, I glance here and there instinctively – noticing every watch, every jewel, and every bulge in a pants pocket that denotes a fat wallet, full of credit.
My thief instincts were lying dormant, and now they come right back.
I slip out of the marketplace, and the ship above me hovers lower and lower – as if it’s sensing something wrong. I know it will send a message to the Aurelians shortly enough. Once it’s on full alert, it will call on the guards, too, and organize them tracking me on foot from its bird’s eye position in the sky above.
But, I won’t give it that chance.
I duck left, and suddenly sprint through a clothing store.
The cotton robes and gowns hanging from the racks graze me as I run through them, jumping over the counter at the end of the store and ignoring the startled screams of the employees.
A moment later, I rush down the back hallway and burst out the rear door into an alleyway.
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