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The room swayed. Or had she moved? Everything had a fuzzy edge to it, including the man, who seemed taller than ever as if he were touching the ceiling. The distortions continued to worsen. However, with the strange visual effects came a sense of euphoria. The nausea lifted and she ceased shaking. Instead, she felt relaxed, almost happy.
“Now, Freya Caspari,” the man perched on the edge of the desk. “Why are you here?”
“I’m part of… I’m a…” Who exactly was she? She smiled; oh, yes, that was it. “Earth’s technology advancement task force recruited me as a spy. I came here as a journalist, but I’m also conducting a covert operation on their behalf.”
She couldn’t stop the words tumbling out of her mouth. In the back of her head, a little voice shouted at her to stop, but she ignored it. He bombarded her with questions and she answered each one while bathed in a swath of warm contentment. It didn’t matter, she kept telling herself, she felt safe in her cocoon.
However, later, when the drug had worn off, she knew tha
t each word she’d uttered had sealed her fate.
Chapter Two
Waking from the dreamless sleep, for a few seconds she’d forgotten where she lay. The stasis tube, which was long and thin, offered little room for movement. Lying in the pitch black, she opened her mouth, ready to call out for help, when the lid lifted and a blinding flood of light filled the narrow cot.
“Good. You’re awake.” A man held out his hand and she grasped it. She needed his strength to climb out.
What now? For two months she’d been locked inside the tube in a state of hibernation while the interstellar ship transported her from Earth via the wormhole hidden in the rings of Saturn to the isolated planet of Tagra, which the Vendu used as a penal colony. For the rest of her natural life it would be her home. Her prison. Military spying carried the maximum life sentence and the Vendu preferred to keep their prisoners as far away from their habitats as possible.
The guard who’d been assigned to wake her directed her to a shower cubicle. She stripped off the thin camisole and panties, grateful he’d waited outside and given her privacy. The water helped clear her head, but her legs continued to shake and her empty stomach rumbled. She needed food. The clothes left out for her were rudimentary—pants and t-shirt, nothing else. No clean underwear. She frowned—to whom could she complain? She was a convict, not a guest any longer.
When the guard returned, he brought a plate of food—something that resembled tomatoes, cheese paste, and crackers. She was too hungry to ask what it was exactly. As she wolfed the plateful down while sitting at a small table, he stood by the door waiting for her to finish. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. Would he talk to her?
“How much longer before we reach Tagra?”
He shrugged. “The wormhole brought us within a day.”
The Vendu, using technology they’d stolen from some other conquest, had constructed the wormhole. That was what they did—used their increasing military might to overrun worlds by nearly wiping out the indigenous populations, stealing advanced technologies and forcing the survivors to live under servitude. Except on Earth, after only months of fighting and easily overwhelming Earth’s limited defenses, the Vendu had ceased hostilities and brought the conflict to a peaceful resolution. Only years later when more was known about the Vendu had Earth’s leadership questioned the sudden halt. What greeted their diplomatic enquiries was silence. The Vendu put up a vast force shield around their colony, switched off their communication channels, and refused entry to anyone but their own species—until Freya’s expedition. In the meantime, there never had been a satisfactory answer to the change in tactic.
The guard had referred to Tagra’s day and not an Earth one. What was the point in remembering how long an Earth day lasted? “You’re a soldier?” She bit into the hard cracker, which was solid and tasteless.
“Yes. Third order. This will be my first rotation on Tagra.”
“I’m the only prisoner on the transporter?” She’d been placed into stasis on Earth and not witnessed the takeoff. Had she’d been the only one from the group of journalists and cultural attachés charged with espionage? The sole prisoner dispatched to Tagra?
“Yes. The rest of the manifest are my comrades. Fellow soldiers tasked with keeping order amongst the orderless.” He stood straighter, clearly proud of his role.
“Me. I’m not exactly a high risk, am I?”
He smirked. “Not you. But on Tagra, life is hard. You’ll find out.”
She finished the last mouthful and pushed the plate away. She couldn’t imagine the food being any better on the colony. “Where are my shackles?”
Another swift grin and the thin lines around his lips added to the two scars running down his cheeks. “Where are you going to go? We’re in space.”
Good point. She was trapped on board a spacecraft with a single destination. “Do I stay here?” She waved at the tiny room with the stasis tube against one wall. She didn’t fancy using it as a bed.
“No. Come with me. You can sit with the others in the main cabin.” He opened the door and ushered her out. With no sense of how large the transporter was, she followed him to what could be the rear or the front of the spacecraft. The interior of the cabin resembled an airplane with rows of seats and a few empty ones next to small portholes.
“Can I sit here?” She pointed to an empty seat by a window.
“Wherever. Just stay put.” He left her to join a small group of soldiers a few rows up. More soldiers. More new guards for Tagra’s penal colony.
She settled into the seat and stretched out her legs. At least they weren’t bothering her. She must be an unusual addition to the usual lineup for the transporter. The first prisoner to be sent from Earth to Tagra in decades. During the war, when Earth had been attacked by the Vendu, many captured soldiers had been sent to distant penal colonies. When the treaty had been negotiated, the one that gave Vendu the continent of Australia to colonize, the stolen men had been returned—those who had survived the ordeal.
What chance did she have if battle-hardened soldiers had struggled with the harsh life of a penal colony?
Through the window, the two suns shone. One large and close, the other a distant fireball. Between them, the golden disk of Tagra. Not a speck of blue on the surface of the planet. Was it totally barren?
