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I look around and see that this area is spacious. There is water running down the wall at the far end, pooling along the edges of the floor and streaming gently in a pond. I have never seen water like that before and I cannot stop staring. I am used to water being delivered through the drinking tubes that we lapped from when we became thirsty.
Is this better or worse than the fate that would have awaited me if the shuttle hadn’t crashed? I don’t know, but I’m beginning to wonder. I haven’t been hurt, but that might only be because there hasn’t been any time to hurt me in yet. I could still be devoured. It would be possible for him, I think, to turn me into meat and consume me. This does not seem like the sort of place where the weak do well.
I turn and look to him for… I don’t know if explanation is the word I am looking for, but direction.
“You are beautiful,” he says. “And you are mine.”
A declaration of ownership. I have been owned before. All my life I have been property of Vargon Inc. Now I belong to him. But who is him? Who, for that matter, am I?
“Don’t look so confused,” he says with a rumbling chuckle. “I’m going to look after you and explain everything as it comes. I know they don’t teach you much on the farm besides obeying the orders of your herders.”
I stay silent. He hasn’t asked me a question.
He looks at me for a very long time, it feels, his dark eyes running over me.
“I will give you a name,” he says. “A new name is a new beginning. I will call you… Aspel.”
“Aspel? What does that mean?”
“In our tongue, it means one who walks the stars.”
That is a very pretty name. Too pretty for me. “I don’t need a name.”
“You have one,” he says. “You will answer to it, and you will follow my orders. You will do as I say. Do you understand?”
“I understand.” I have been trained to answer quickly and affirmatively. I don’t have to think about my answer, because no answers have ever been thought about.
“Do you… agree?” He phrases the question differently and immediately throws me into confusion.
“Do I agree?” I repeat the question, not knowing how to answer it. “Yes?”
“That sounds like a question,” he says, his lips twisting into what might be a smile, if the fangs didn’t get in the way. “Don’t you know if you agree or not?”
“I’ve never been asked to agree. I’ve just been told what to do.”
“Ah, of course, the farm mentality. They kept you like a little animal, didn’t they. Well, Aspel, you are much more than that. You are human, and your submission means something—but only when you understand what it is you are giving.”
I try to look as though I understand, even though I don’t. I know I am human, but being human doesn’t mean what he thinks it does.
“Come here,” he says, drawing me over to a bed. It is lined with soft material and it feels pleasant to sink into. It is cooler than I expected it to be, a pleasant relief from the warmth of these depths.
“My name is Isu,” he says. “That is what you will call me. You will also call me Master. Master Isu. Understand?”
“Yes, Master Isu.”
He looks at me and I sense that he is both pleased with my response and somehow still dissatisfied with it.
“You are very obedient,” he says. “But I do not think it is true obedience.”
“What is true obedience, Master Isu?”
“It is when you do what you are told because you desire to please the one who is doing the telling.”
I fall silent. Do I desire to please him? I do not. I have never desired to please anyone. I was raised to be compliant, but only to avoid pain. I have been conditioned to seek reward, follow directions, and acquiesce to authority. But that is not enough for Master Isu.
He is demanding, this alien. He is different from me in every way, big and small. I don’t know how to behave around him. The farm handlers barked orders and used electric sticks if we did not obey, but I don’t think that is his style.
“Don’t worry,” he says, giving me a fanged smile that seems to be designed to calm me. “I will show you. Look after you. You’re safe now.”
I’ve never been safe before. I’m not sure that this is a place I can feel safe. It’s so dark. I’m not used to dark like this. And it smells… I don’t know if bad is the word, but definitely different. It smells like heat and chemicals and danger.
“Ask questions,” he says. “You will have to ask many to learn.”
