Everyone around her seemed to simply take them for granted. How would she ever fit in to a place like this? Compared to them, she was a cultural mutant.
Then Jess' arms were closed around her. Things didn't seem as frightening; she was safe. He would take care of her. He rubbed his hands up and down her arms, kissing the top of her head softly.
"It's going to be all right," he whispered. "We just have to take care of a few more things and then we can start building a new life for ourselves. You have to trust me, Bethany. I know what's right for us."
He kissed the top of her head again, then pushed her gently away. He reached down, taking her hands into his. At first she smiled at him. Then she noticed that his grip on her had grown tight.
"I need to go and see about our new ship," he said. "While I'm gone, I'm going to lock you in the fresher."
"Oh, no," she said, heart sinking. "Jess, you can't leave me locked up in this strange place. It's not right."
"I'm sorry," he said. "But I don't have a choice. I can't risk having you run off."
"And just where do you think that I would go?" she asked sarcastically. "I don't exactly know anyone here. What do you think I'm planning to do?"
"I won't risk it," he said, no longer meeting her gaze. She could tell from his tone that the subject was closed. Still holding her hands firmly in his grasp, he walked her toward the fresher.
"Don't bother trying to make a lot of noise," he said as he locked her in. "The room has been sound-proofed. We're close enough to the spaceport that sound baffles are required in all the rooms."
"Just who do you think I'd be trying to attract?" she asked. "Jess, I don't know anyone here. I don't even know how to read half the signs we passed on the way in. They're in another language. Why do you think I'm so bound and determined to run off?"
He didn't reply. Instead, he pushed her into the small room and shut the door. She sat on the floor, feeling as if she were caught in some kind of bizarre time loop. No matter what she said to him, he still didn't trust her. He treated her well 90 percent of the time, yet he still wasn't secure enough to leave her alone.
She didn't want to leave him.
She liked him, touching him made her happy. She'd been angry with him at first, but she wasn't a fool. The slave revolt had given her new hope and the chance for happiness. Happiness with him. Even if that weren't enough reason to stay with him, she had her fear. This new world he was showing her was frightening. She didn't understand how it worked, didn't understand how she would be able to survive here without some kind of help. She liked the idea of building a life with him, although she had no idea how they were going to do such a thing if he wouldn't talk to her about it. They couldn't go on like this indefinitely, she already knew that. They would drive each other crazy, end up strangling each other. This was no way to live.
She sat there and waited for him for several hours. Finally she fell asleep, only to be awakened by the sound of the door opening. He was back. Within seconds he opened the fresher door. He stood tall over her in the door, reaching one hand down to help her to her feet, his face grim. She shivered.
He looked completely different. Instead of wearing the monochrome, drab coveralls that all Pilgrim men wore, he was in a sleek black suit. Well tailored, it clung to his body, emphasizing his broad shoulders and muscular chest. It was severe and simple, yet far more elegant than anything she had ever seen before. He was incredibly handsome, almost unreal. What if he left me? she wondered, feeling faint and suddenly self-conscious. Her hair was ragged, her hands were rough. What would a man like this see in her, especially when there were so many women on the station who seemed more than eager for his attention? Women who wore feathers, like Mary. Exotic women.
"I brought you some things," he said, unaware of her troubled thoughts as he pulled her to her feet.
He turned and walked over to the bed. She stood and followed him on shaky legs. There were several packages, all brightly colored.
"What are they?" she asked.
"Clothing," he said. "I bought you some new things. Go ahead and open them."
She touched one of the boxes hesitantly, then pulled it open. The fabric inside was soft, far softer than anything she'd ever felt.
"That's called Fella sheen," Jess said. "It's only woven on Fella, from the cocoons of tiny creatures that live in the trees there. It's very lightweight, but incredibly durable. I thought it might make a nice change for you. Why don't you try it on?"
She held it up, amazed to see the small puddle of fabric expand into a full-length dress. But not a dress like anything she'd ever worn before. There were slits up the sides. She pulled out another piece of cloth and discovered a matching pair of pants. Just how was a woman supposed to wear something like this?
"Many of the women hear wear jumpsuits like mine," he said quietly. "But I thought you might be more comfortable in something like this. You wear the dress over the pants, but when you walk, your legs are still covered. It's a very popular style."
"Why can't I just wear my own clothes?" she asked nervously. So many things were changing so quickly, she hardly knew what to think about this. Was he ashamed of the way she looked? She raised a hand to her hair, fingering the rough ends self-consciously. She'd done her best to even them up after he'd cut part of it off during the revolt, but it was still uneven.
"Because I've sold the ship," he said. "We're not Pilgrims anymore, we're tourists. We need to look the part. I've got new identities for us, too."
"New identities?" she asked. "I don't think I understand."
"You can buy anything on Discovery Station for the right price," Jess said lightly. He turned from her, walking across the room to sit down in a chair. "We've already got the paperwork. We'll go in tomorrow for the surgery."
"Surgery?" she asked, feeling the blood drain from her face.
"I need surgery to change my finger and retinal prints," Jess said, smiling. "Don't worry, it won't take long. The DNA patch is just an injection. They'll test you, too, to see if you're in any databases. I'm betting you won't need any surgery; I doubt the Pilgrims bothered to register you with anyone."
"That's a relief," she said, shivering.
"I'll get Calla tonight," Jess added. "She'll need the surgery, too. I did some checking around. Jenner, the bitch who used to own me and who still owns Calla, seems to have left the station, and the Saurellians have commandeered her business. I'm hoping this will make rescuing Calla easier."
"If it's so easy to get a slave away from here, why didn't you escape a long time ago?" Bethany asked worriedly. "I don't understand."
"There are two reasons I didn't escape before," Jess said, his face growing shadowed. "Calla was too afraid, for one. And I didn't have any money. Between selling the ore and selling the ship I've got plenty now. More than I'd ever dreamed."
"Didn't you have to buy a new ship, though?"
"Yes, but it was relatively cheap compared to the freighter," Jess said. "Everyone here is looking for big ships. Getting something small was easy enough."
"I see," she said, not understanding him at all. Things were moving too quickly for her.
"Aren't you going to put on the dress?" he asked after a brief pause. "I thought I might take you out for dinner."
"Out for dinner?" she asked. What was he talking about?
"Yes, out," he replied, laughing. "They have businesses here called restaurants, where they provide food for a price. This way we don't have to worry about cooking."