Free Carnelians by Catherine Asaro Page B

her. Not that she ever saw them. She doubted any of them even lived fulltime on the planet, despite its name, Muze’s Helios. The only person who “owned” her was Harindor, even if he wasn’t the one who put the collar around her neck and the guards on her wrists. He had far more say in her life than the supposedly godlike Muzes, given that she had never even seen one exalted hair on their exalted butts.
    Red looked around at her cubicle. “Small.”
    “Yeah, well, it’s better than what you had,” she said, suddenly defensive, knowing how paltry it all looked. “Don’t diss my home, drill-boy.”
    Red swung around to her. “No call me that!”
    “Hey, sorry.” She flushed.
    He hesitated, his glance flicking to the kitchen. “Food?”
    “Sure.” Aliana went to a wall panel and punched in a meal order. She didn’t have much, just the usual, but it was all right.
    “You not provider,” Red said behind her.
    Bemused, she turned around. He was standing in the center of the room. It startled her to realize she had trusted him enough to turn away; on principle, she never showed her back to anyone.
    “Of course I’m not a provider,” she said. “Most people aren’t.” Only a few thousand providers existed. Most of Eube’s two trillion citizens were taskmakers, all slaves, but with complicated hierarchies. Taskmakers at the top had a great deal of wealth or power; those at the bottom, like her, were nobody. Providers weren’t in the hierarchy. Their entire reason for existence was to please their Aristo owners. They lived in incredible luxury, but she doubted it was worth it. Pain for your entire life? No thanks.
    Red hesitated. “You provider. Aristos just not know.”
    She gave a snort. “I’m too ugly to be a provider.”
    “Beautiful. Pretty gold skin.”
    Right, sure. The wall beeped at her, and she said, “Time to eat.”
    “Stay away from Aristos,” Red persisted. “They find out.”
    “Don’t worry.” She pulled two trays of food out of the delivery module. “I’ll avoid that big crowd of Aristos hanging around here.” She set the trays on the table. The pseudo-steaks smelled great, and the vegetables lit up the white tray with sprays of green, red, orange, and blue.
    Red dropped into a chair, his gaze avid. She laid a knife, scoop, and fork next to his tray, but he just picked up the steak with his hand and tore a huge bite out of the meat, eating so fast he hardly seemed to chew.
    “Hey, slow down. You’ll make yourself sick.” Aliana pushed his hand, making him plunk the steak back into its dish. She stuck the fork into the meat. “You know how to eat civilized, right?” She offered him the knife. “You know, cut up your food, use a fork.”
    He stared at the knife, then at her, then at the knife. Whatever bothered him must have been big, because he stopped trying to eat.
    Aliana spoke awkwardly. “Red, I seem to freak you every other minute, hell if I know why. I mean, is it really that crazy for me to think you can use a fork and stuff?”
    “Knife.” His face paled. “Me not touch. Get punished.”
    “Why?”
    “Not allowed weapon. Not ever.”
    A terrible feeling was growing in Aliana. She sat next to him and cut a piece of his steak, then speared it with the fork and offered it to him.
    Red took the fork and ate the meat.
    “Okay,” Aliana said. “We’ll do it this way.” As she sliced up his food, she said, “You need better clothes than that jumpsuit.”
    “Clothes fine.”
    She finished cutting his meat. “There. All done.”
    With no further hesitation, he dug into his meal. He practically inhaled the food, never even pausing to drink his water.
    Aliana ate more slowly. “So. About your jumpsuit.”
    He finished his last bite. “Not need clothes.”
    “Yes, you do. Yours are filthy. You can borrow a pair of my trousers and a shirt.” She touched his arm. “You might have to roll up the shirt sleeves, though. They’re probably too long.”
    Red