reality to sink into her mind. Offending him would be bad, maybe even lethal, and she tried to talk her way out of the slip, "I was hoping it was a dream."
His next words weren't at all what she expected. "You wouldn't cause any trouble for me if I were to let you out, right?"
The prospect of seeing something besides the bare walls of the cell felt almost intoxicating, and she shook her head eagerly. Travis smirked, "You wouldn't, say, try to overpower me with that really dangerous cup or anything, would you?"
Had he seen her? Had he been watching her? All night? She felt herself blush, but still clutched the cup harder. It was hers, the only thing she had, and she wanted to keep it. She still dropped it when he reached a hand down to pull her up. Accepting the offering seemed dangerous, but rejecting it even more so. Putting her hand carefully in his, half expecting pain and death, it surprised her to find it warm and human.
"It'll take us a few days to reach Central. Any mischief and you get to spend all that time in here, do you understand? If you try to contact William, try to steal the ship, sabotage it, anything, it's back to the cell. Am I making myself clear?"
She nodded obediently and glanced down at her hand still holding his. It surprised her she wasn't as afraid of him anymore. He almost seemed like a real person.
Looking up, she found herself staring at the ruined part of his face. That too seemed less frightening and revolting now. If anything, it looked painful and filled her with sympathy. "Why are you doing this? Being nice to me, I mean?"
He made a dismissive gesture, "I don't know. I should kill you and get it over with, but I guess you're harmless."
Dropping her hand and turning abruptly, he walked out with long strides, and she hurried to follow. As soon as she got into the corridor her head started to spin, trying to take in all the unfamiliar sights and smells, and she had to jog to keep up with him to the elevator. If she'd still had doubts about where she was they evaporated. This thing, whatever it was, couldn't have been made on Earth.
*****
Travis didn't say anything as long as they were in the lift, but as soon as the doors opened and he walked out, he started to talk in an almost absentminded voice. "The lift won't take you anywhere; it'd be futile to try. You will have a room on this floor. You can go to the bridge to look out if you want to, but the computer will not obey you. If you try anything, anything at all, it's back to the cell and I'll forget I ever met you."
Even though her fear had started to turn into curiosity, it still seemed safer not to say anything, so she nodded obediently and followed him. After a few steps, caution vanished, and her mouth started talking all by itself. "It's a big ship. And empty."
Her warder stared straight ahead, and for several seconds she thought he wouldn't answer. "Yes. It can hold over 2000 troops and almost as many prisoners."
"How many are here now?"
Turning his head to stare at her, his eyes seemed cold again, and his tone of voice made it clear the discussion was over. "You and me. Stop asking so many questions."
She stopped to stare, mouthing, "WOW," but Travis didn't wait. He was already moving forward and she had to run again to catch up with him.
When he eventually did stop, he nodded towards a door. "You can stay in here. There are clothes in the closet. Behave."
There were so many things she wanted to say, so many questions to ask, but one thing stabbed harder at her mind than everything else. It was just too creepy. "Clothes from other prisoners?"
She paused, and forced the question over her lips. "Dead prisoners?"
Travis shrugged. "They're clothes."
*****
The room was small and sparsely furnished. Besides bare walls, she saw a narrow bed, a metal table, and two metal chairs. Not until the door closed behind her did Patricia realize Travis hadn't followed her in, and she sank down on the edge of the bed,
His next words weren't at all what she expected. "You wouldn't cause any trouble for me if I were to let you out, right?"
The prospect of seeing something besides the bare walls of the cell felt almost intoxicating, and she shook her head eagerly. Travis smirked, "You wouldn't, say, try to overpower me with that really dangerous cup or anything, would you?"
Had he seen her? Had he been watching her? All night? She felt herself blush, but still clutched the cup harder. It was hers, the only thing she had, and she wanted to keep it. She still dropped it when he reached a hand down to pull her up. Accepting the offering seemed dangerous, but rejecting it even more so. Putting her hand carefully in his, half expecting pain and death, it surprised her to find it warm and human.
"It'll take us a few days to reach Central. Any mischief and you get to spend all that time in here, do you understand? If you try to contact William, try to steal the ship, sabotage it, anything, it's back to the cell. Am I making myself clear?"
She nodded obediently and glanced down at her hand still holding his. It surprised her she wasn't as afraid of him anymore. He almost seemed like a real person.
Looking up, she found herself staring at the ruined part of his face. That too seemed less frightening and revolting now. If anything, it looked painful and filled her with sympathy. "Why are you doing this? Being nice to me, I mean?"
He made a dismissive gesture, "I don't know. I should kill you and get it over with, but I guess you're harmless."
Dropping her hand and turning abruptly, he walked out with long strides, and she hurried to follow. As soon as she got into the corridor her head started to spin, trying to take in all the unfamiliar sights and smells, and she had to jog to keep up with him to the elevator. If she'd still had doubts about where she was they evaporated. This thing, whatever it was, couldn't have been made on Earth.
*****
Travis didn't say anything as long as they were in the lift, but as soon as the doors opened and he walked out, he started to talk in an almost absentminded voice. "The lift won't take you anywhere; it'd be futile to try. You will have a room on this floor. You can go to the bridge to look out if you want to, but the computer will not obey you. If you try anything, anything at all, it's back to the cell and I'll forget I ever met you."
Even though her fear had started to turn into curiosity, it still seemed safer not to say anything, so she nodded obediently and followed him. After a few steps, caution vanished, and her mouth started talking all by itself. "It's a big ship. And empty."
Her warder stared straight ahead, and for several seconds she thought he wouldn't answer. "Yes. It can hold over 2000 troops and almost as many prisoners."
"How many are here now?"
Turning his head to stare at her, his eyes seemed cold again, and his tone of voice made it clear the discussion was over. "You and me. Stop asking so many questions."
She stopped to stare, mouthing, "WOW," but Travis didn't wait. He was already moving forward and she had to run again to catch up with him.
When he eventually did stop, he nodded towards a door. "You can stay in here. There are clothes in the closet. Behave."
There were so many things she wanted to say, so many questions to ask, but one thing stabbed harder at her mind than everything else. It was just too creepy. "Clothes from other prisoners?"
She paused, and forced the question over her lips. "Dead prisoners?"
Travis shrugged. "They're clothes."
*****
The room was small and sparsely furnished. Besides bare walls, she saw a narrow bed, a metal table, and two metal chairs. Not until the door closed behind her did Patricia realize Travis hadn't followed her in, and she sank down on the edge of the bed,
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