“My gang has one missing.”
“Was she seen last evening?”
“No.”
“Then the corn took her. Get another from the pen.”
The morning sun beat down on the farming station. A row of three, thatched barns stood facing a crumbled, ancient, brick road. Across from them were eight, round pens made from twigs and packed with mud. A tall, rickety, wooden tower had been set up in the center; atop it was an open platform. Iron cuffs hung from chains off the sides, clinking. They were dark with old, dried, blood.
Outside the barns, a lizard-drawn, open wagon had stopped. Naked slave girls went back and forth to it from the barns, straining with large, wicker baskets. A naked brunette went up to it and shook out her basket. Oval, black, fruit tumbled out, rolling and banging against the wagon’s sides. She stepped away and another girl took her place. A pale Armanean slaver stood watching the girls as they loaded. He drew back his whip and cracked it in the air.
Inside the eight pens were a mix of naked, collared, slave girls. A slum girl blonde shared a dead grub with an Armanean brunette. A Shemite girl was fast asleep, her head down in a Shang’s lap. The Shang looked about nervously as she stroked the Shemite’s hair. A slaver stepped into one pen and sat on its knee-high wall. The slaves there faced him, on their hands and knees. He beckoned to a petite, mixed-blooded girl. She had milk chocolate skin and large eyes. She crawled to him as he began undoing his belt.
Haley crouched against the slave pen’s wall, staring at the two men who were talking. On the ground before them, in three rows, were thirty slave girls. They crouched, kneeling with their foreheads pressed to the dirt. In front of each naked slave was a large, wicker, basket.
Ahead of them, abutting the farm station, was what the men had called ‘corn.’
It was a tall, black crop, planted in rows. The shortest was eight feet tall. The tallest three times that. The plants grew straight with large, grass-like leaves, akin to bamboo. Where the stalks emerged from the ground, black, oval fruit were budding. The same fruit the slaves were loading the cart with.
A wave of cold, dry air blew through the crop, fluttering the leaves. The wind struck the slave pens and the girls shivered.
One of the two men stepped away from the crouching girls. He turned and started scanning the girls in the pens. All were looking away: slave girls learn to avoid eye contact.
All except Haley.
The man’s gaze stopped on her. His eyes became wide and he smiled.
“That one,” he started towards her slave pen.
Haley sat back on her heels, back straight, palms on her thighs.
“Just look at this!” the man grabbed her by her hair. Pain spiked as he dug into her roots. He yanked her to her feet. His arm twisted her head back, baring her collared throat to the sky. “Such good meat!” he had a scar across his nose. “How did we miss her before? Let’s keep her for later.”
“No, bring her,” the other waved his hand. He had thick, black, beard. “She looks strong.”
“Come on, lovely,” Scar Nose dragged her back her hair.
He shoved her to the ground with the rows of crouching girls. Haley stayed down. Beside her was one of the large, wicker baskets. She pulled it to her.
“Who is the worst?” asked Black Beard. “I need another on the bait tower.”
“That one,” Scar Nose pointed to a petite girl with dirty blonde hair. “She’s been under quota, twice now.”
Black Beard waved to two guards and pointed to the girl. They hurried over to her and grabbed her, yanking her up by her arms.
“No, Master!” the blonde begged, her brown eyes wide. “Please, I will do better! I will do better!”
She yelped as a guard punched her, throwing her head to the side. Blood dripped from her split lip. They hauled her to the rickety tower, a structure three stories high and held in place by guy ropes. They carried her up its unguarded, spiral steps. At the top she began screaming. They ignored her and pushed her down on her back. Using the blood-stained cuffs, they secured her ankles and wrists. Then, they climbed down and went about their business.
The girl kept on screaming.
“Right, get going then,” said Black Beard. “You’re working the fourth patch today.”
“Fourth?” Scar Nose lost his smile. “Fourth is picked clean. Zuran worked it yesterday; he whipped six girls for coming back with unripe pods. There’s nothing unless they go in deep.”
“Then they go in deep. Kill every fifth girl that comes back under weight, and beat the other four.”
“Every fifth?”
“Who cares? We’re getting fresh girls from Eibon. And Razkur wants sixty tons before the Arrival.”
“He’s not going to get sixty.”
“You can tell the High Priest Lord that, yourself. Or better, you can tell the Mi-Go when they get hungry. Every fifth. Now, go get me my corn.”
Black Beard left.
“Get moving, sluts!” Scar Nose cracked his whip.
The crouching slave girls grabbed their baskets and jumped to their feet. Other slavers cracked whips, falling into place around them. The girls rushed ahead, a driven herd. Haley rushed with them.
“Fantastic bitch,” one guard called out to Scar Nose as she passed. “We should keep her chained in our quarters.”
“Ha!” said Scar. “You mean my quarters!”
***
“You’ve not done this before, have you?”
As soon as there were no masters around, slave girls talked.
A group of Shemites tittered to each other in a dialect of their land. They gestured to the already harvested plants, their voices getting louder and brittle. A dark-skinned Darfuri girl began walking deeper into the growth. A redheaded Siberian ran and caught her by the hand, and pulled her back. The two began arguing.
Haley turned to see who had addressed her. It was a slender brunette girl with a slum accent. She smiled at Haley.
“No,” she replied. “I was bought recently.”
“I’ll show you how to pluck them. Just help me out if I don’t have enough - and I’ll help you.”
“Okay.”
“I’m Saska.”
“I’m Haley.”
Two girls pushed past Haley, a tall, chocolate-skinned Bharaji and pale brunette. The Bharaji pushed a plant aside to let in some light. Her partner got down on her knee and felt the fruit at the plant’s base. She shook her head and stood. They two turned and went deeper into the corn.
“Don’t go!” one of the Shemites yelled after them.
“We must,” said Saska. “Or you know what will happen to us.”
“I don’t want to die,” said a second Shemite.
“We won’t. Take my hand,” Saska clasped the other girl’s hand. “Let’s go together. We’re safer as a group.”
The Shemites did not argue. Saska stepped towards the deeper growth.
“Come on,” she said over her shoulder to Haley.
Haley picked up her basket and followed.
The corn expanded ahead of them into an endless sea of black. The stalks grew taller and taller, towering above them. Leaves the size of small children meshed together, blocking out the sunlight. Only a few shafts of light cut through to the bottom. They disappeared as the plants shifted in the wind - and reappeared elsewhere. The slaves’ eyes adjusted to the gloom.
“Saska, why aren’t the masters driving us, with their whips?” asked Haley.
“They don’t need to,” Saska’s face hardened. “If we don’t come back with full baskets, we will be punished.”
“But what if,” she lowered her voice, “what if a girl escapes?”
There was a sudden, loud, rustling - all the plants shook, their stalks bending in a sudden wind. Freezing cold air blew past the girls - they groaned and huddled together. It reminded Haley of the winds off the glaciers.
“What was that?”
“Part of why we won’t escape,” said Saska. “Once, some girls came back with frozen fingers. Don’t think about it. Just do what you must and get back, and you’ll be alright.”
The ground grew cold and hard underfoot. Their breath steamed in front of them. Haley felt the blood leave her toes.
“What’s that?” she pointed to a patch of bright light. It turned the surrounding gloom into stalk-shaped shadows and secrets.
“Don’t go there,” said a Shemite. She looked at the patch and shivered.
“But what is it? Have men cut the corn there?”
“Not men,” said Saska. “Let her see, she must learn about these things. Come,” she took Haley by the arm. The Shemites did not follow.
The clearing was about four meters across. Sunlight poured down over crushed stalks and torn leaves. Grooves had been dug in the soil - inches deep. Some of them were stained rust-red.
“This is the other reason you should not run away,” Saska squatted by a leaf that obscured something white underneath it. She plucked away the leaf and held up the white item - a skull fragment.
“There are stone creatures that come alive at night, and take to the air and hunt,” she said. “I’ve heard them called ‘Night Beasts.’ They are why slaves are chained on the wooden towers. The Night Beasts take the offerings, and leave the tents and huts alone.”
“But, there are so many people here!” Haley stepped back from the clearing, her skin crawling. “Why do they not find the beasts during the day, and smash them?”
“Because they are their allies. The Night Beasts and the Mi-Go have a pact. Come, the one that fed here will still be close. You do not want to look upon one, even in stone form. The sight of it can bring illness. They blindfold us at night so we cannot see them taking wing.” Saska stopped and cringed, her mind suddenly elsewhere a moment.
“Saska, have you seen one? Alive?”
“No. But we have all heard the screams of the girls on the towers. They see them, and some will survive till morning. Those gone mad will have their tongues cut out. None survive two nights; in body or mind.”
They left the clearing.
About ten minutes later they came to a patch with more and larger fruit under the stalks.
“Here, these are good,” one of the Shemites crouched at a plant and waved over the others. She held up one of the large, oval, fruits. It had a thick, leathery skin and was cool to the touch.
“Let’s start picking,” said another.
They quickly separated and went from stalk to stalk, plucking.
“I have never seen such a fruit,” said Haley, leaning forward and sniffing one.
“Do not eat it,” Saska frowned. “You will sicken. Only the Runa eat them - and the Mi-Go.”
“Have you seen a Mi-Go?”
Saska paused.
“May Azathoth return me to Primal Chaos before such comes to pass. Do not think of such things, attend to your task. Here,” She plucked a fruit and handed it to Haley. “See what it looks like. Feel its weight. Lighter than this, and they will beat you for plucking it. You pluck them like this,” she crouched and twisted a fruit till it broke free. “Now you try it.”
Haley went to the same plant and twisted off a fruit.
“That’s right. Now, fill your basket. Remember, none too small, and stay in view of the next girl. Understand?”
“Yes. Thank you.”
Saska was already off, picking from another plant.
Haley got to work. It was strange, not having a man watching her, or even nearby. There was no chain at her ankle or throat. This was the freest she’d ever been since Master pulled her out of the river.
The idea of escape flashed through her mind.
She dismissed it, angry at herself. How could she ever leave Master? He fed her, protected her, and only rarely punished her without reason. What more could a slave want?
There was always some dumb girl who didn’t understand what she had and would run away. When recaptured, she would beg and plead about how sorry she was… lies! If she cared so much, why did she run in the first place? Those girls never knew what they had until they lost it. They threw everything away, just because they couldn’t keep their feet still. Bitches made it harder for the rest-
She stopped and looked up, peering at an opening in the leaves. Was it the Moon up there?
No. Just the Sun.
Ten feet to her left was one of the Shemites. Beyond her another fifteen feet away, was Saska, all but hidden in the gloom. Haley went back to plucking fruit. She thought of Master’s other slaves. Ashtala, the dark one, even knelt like a haughty bitch. She was better though after Master gave her a good fucking. Then there was Amber; quiet, shy, and calling out to Master in her sleep! She seemed like she -
No, that’s up there is the Moon.
Nausea stabbed between her eyes like a spear. She went down on her hands and knees and spewed her breakfast. Her head throbbed and she hurled again. She sat back on her heels and rested her head against the ground.
A few minutes later, she wiped her mouth, spat, and got to her feet. She peered again through the gap in the leaves of the twenty-foot plants.
Where there had been the Sun, was now a full moon.
“Sisters! You need to look at-”
She stopped and looked about, eyes wide.
“Sisters? Saska? Where are you?”
No answer.
She made her way to where the Shemite had been just minutes ago. The twisted off stems still dripped sap. She touched it, then jerked her hand back - the sap was ice cold.
“Saska! Saska!”
Another cold breeze blew through the plants. They rustled louder, almost like the buzzing of a giant insect. The wind bit like ice fangs, deep into her bones. She clutched herself and shrank into a ball, eyes tearing up. Just when she could take no more, it stopped, as quick as it started.
Frost hung from the nearest leaves.
“Is anyone else there!”
Silence.
She looked around at the rows and rows of plants.
Which way did I come?
She had no idea anymore.
“Fine,” she gritted her teeth.
I’ll just look.
She took hold of the nearest plant. Its stalk was thick, almost tough as wood. She reached up and grabbed a leaf - it bent but did not tear. She hauled herself up, clutching the stalk between her strong thighs. She grabbed the next leaf and pulled herself higher. Just as her thighs were burning, her foot found the first leaf. It took her weight.
Slowly, peering into the gloom, she climbed the 30-foot plant.
The higher she went, the brighter the moonlight seemed to become. Soon, she could see without difficulty and climbed faster and in confidence. The plant’s stalk became colder and felt more and more like dead flesh.
Finally, she reached the topmost leaves and looked out over the cornfields.
At what, she did not comprehend.
The fields packed a large valley. The stalks weren’t in neat, planted rows, but grew thick, like forest trees. Scattered through the valley were giant earth mounds - much too large for termites. Strange lights began dancing across the valley. Other lights emerged over the corn and flashed back.
A shadow passed over her.
She looked up: a giant, winged creature flew across the moon.
She felt the terror of a small mammal hunted by a hawk. Nausea punched between her eyes so hard, she jerked back. She whimpered and spewed as her head pounded; threatening to explode. Panting and dry heaving, she clutched the tree stalk till it leaked sap.
The moment passed and she scrambled to get down. Her foot slipped on the sap; she grabbed at a leaf, and missed.
She screamed as she fell to the ground.