The men stopped, indecision on their faces. “Why are these men here? Tell them to leave,” said Ander Korwits.
“They are here to carry you off,” Dee explained. “My telling them to leave won’t affect the situation.”
“I told you to pipe down, you stupid little bitch,” Travers said in a voice laden with emotion. “What did you tell her?”
“I told her you and your henchmen were here to abduct her,” Dee said, still showing teeth. “She objects to the procedure.”
“Why you—” Travers made to swing at Dee, but the Grallt girl intercepted the hand in mid-arc.
Peters knew without looking around what had induced the pole-axed expressions on the visitors’ faces. Alper Gor stalked out of the bedroom, still nude, her expression as blank as Ander’s. She walked over to Travers and feigned a left-handed slap. When the human officer fended that off, the ferassi used the opening to plant her right hand in the woman’s gut. Travers bent over and started to retch; Bolton and Everett started to go to her, but Alper held up an imperious hand. “Tell them to wait, Grallt,” she said, and her voice could have been used to condense helium.
“She wants you to listen,” Dreelig managed.
Travers started to straighten up, and Alper delivered a right-handed roundhouse slap that sent her spinning against the wall. “Grallt, you will translate this precisely,” Alper said. “John, tell me what he says. If he deviates by a hair from my meaning, shoot him.”
“She is telling me to translate her words,” Dreelig rendered that with a tremble in his voice. “She told Peters to check my translation, and if it is wrong to kill me.”
“Don’t worry too much, Dreelig,” Peters said grimly. “I won’t shoot you, but you damn well better get it right.”
“Did he render it accurately?” Alper demanded.
“He spoke idiomatically,” Dee told her. “Peters told him he won’t shoot him. I will if he needs it.”
“Thank you.” Alper faced the two male officers and stood erect. “Get out of here and don’t come back,” she said with force. “Leave the quasi-female; you may have the pieces back when we are finished, if you want them.” When Dreelig hesitated, she snapped: “Tell them, Grallt!”
“She says you are to go away and never return,” Dreelig managed between gulps. “She says that Ms. Travers is to stay—”
“And she’s got Spike figured out to a T,” Dee said brightly. “She said you can have what’s left back when we’re done. Don’t worry, we’ll keep the pieces big.”
Bolton didn’t know whether to be enraged or appalled. “As you were!” he boomed. “Peters, call ‘em off.”
Alper stood like a statue, and Peters managed a thin smile. “I ain’t in control of nothin’ here,” he told the commander. “The ladies can sort it out, for all of me.”
“What are they talking about?” Alper asked.
“The commander wants clarification of the situation,” Dee told her.
“’Commander’ is a title?”
“Yes.” Dee gestured at Bolton. “This man is the chief of the humans aboard Llapaaloapalla.”
Alper nodded shortly. “Ander, do you have the weapon?”
“Yes.” Ander had moved to stand between Peters and the others. She produced the push-force weapon. “Right here.”
“Good.” Alper nodded again. “Shoot this commander for me, please.”
Chapter Forty-Two
“John, is everyone still whole?” a vaguely English accent interrupted. “You don’t seem to be exhibiting your usual talent for getting on top of random situations.”
“I ain’t had much room for maneuver,” Peters replied. “And yeah, ain’t been no weapons discharged yet, everybody’s still healthy give or take a gut-ache or two.”
“Good,” Prethuvenigis approved. “Gentlemen, move aside a bit, if you would.” The two male officers edged nervously to one side. The trader entered with caution, staying as far as possible from Bolton and Everett, and paused to survey the tableau. “Will someone be kind enough to inform me as to how this situation began? John, perhaps you should speak first.”
“Well, Thuven, I ain’t quite caught up myself, but Miz Travers here come bustin’ in and started makin’ accusations, sayin’ I wasn’t no fit guardian for Ander and Alper on account of usin’ them as sex slaves, and proposin’ to take them off to the women’s quarters,” Peters explained. “Ander wanted to know what was goin’ on, and between Dreelig and Dee I reckon she got filled in pretty good. She turned them down flat, and things started to get out of hand after that.”
“I see. Dreelig, does that account accord with your recollection?”
“Yes, Prethuvenigis,” the Grallt replied, looking around with nervous glances.
“Good. You are dismissed.”
“Enh?”
“I said you were dismissed, Dreelig,” Prethuvenigis said sharply. “Go to your quarters. I’ll speak to you later.”
“Yes, Prethuvenigis,” Dreelig said, and shambled dejectedly to the door.
“Dee, is this the individual who precipitated the altercation?” the trader asked.
“Yes.”
“What is her name?”
“Travers.”
“Thank you.” Prethuvenigis looked the woman over. She was leaning against the wall, breathing heavily, the left side of her face an angry red. “Ms. Travers, what was your motive in coming here and accosting these people?”
She had the courage to stick to her guns: “I came to get these unfortunate girls out of the hands of this abuser. I intended to get them over to the women’s quarters where we could take care of them properly.”
“I see. And why did you bring Commander Bolton and his associate along?”
Travers glanced at Peters. “This man is known to be violent,” she said sullenly. “I expected to need backup.”
Prethuvenigis nodded. “Ander, this woman says she came to rescue you from abuse and maltreatment, and take you to where you could be cared for properly. Did you understand that?”
“Yes. She isn’t sane,” Ander said, keeping her neutral inflection. “I tried to tell her, through the Grallt, that I was happy where I was, but she wouldn’t listen.”
Alper Gor laughed in her silvery soprano. “No, she wouldn’t have,” she pointed out. “I don’t know this individual, but we met the type often in the tuwe, didn’t we, Ander?”
“Yes,” Ander Korwits agreed. “A female who assumes the privileges and powers of a male, including whatever treatment of the girls she may care to inflict. In the tuwe they didn’t often survive.”
“That’s exactly correct,” said Dee with heat. “She is the reason I left my post with the officers. I could no longer bear her treatment of me.”
Prethuvenigis nodded. “Ms. Travers, Ander Korwits and Alper Gor in their turn accuse you of wishing to abduct them so that you may conduct molestations of your own upon their persons. Do you have a response?”
Travers went white. “That’s a lie, God damn it. I should’ve known you cuntfaces would stick by your fair-haired boy!” She glared at Peters, her features distorted in a rictus of hatred. “You wait ‘til you get back to Earth, jackass. You’ll be in the dock for slavery, sure as Hell.”
Dee exploded. “Bullshit, Spike! You’re a groper and a fondler. If you had the equipment you’d be a rapist. Half the women in the unit’d bug out if they had a chance, just to get away from you—”
“Shut up, you Goddamned little—”
“Fuck you!” Dee folded her arms and reflected Travers’s hate back at her. “You go ahead and file your goddamn charges,” she hissed. “We’ll see what you look like when your supposed ‘victims’ call you a liar to your Goddamned face, and I turn around and put in about fifty counts of sexual harassment!”