Free The Mind Field by Blaze Ward Page A

slaves go, they tend to be better kept than those in mines, or farms. It is a business, after all. She might be happier if that happened to her.”
    “Oh, I know,” Javier replied finally. “There are a number of places the Captain might sell her. Me? I’d head to one of the big worlds and ask for a finder’s fee from one of the big universities to cover the expenses. They would love to have someone who lived that long ago, just to talk about what the world was like.”
    “And what makes you think the Captain won’t do that?” she asked him, harsh vitriol creeping back into her voice.
    “Because I’m a slave, Sykora,” he said flatly, harshly. “Dress it up all you want in fancy language, but I owe a bonded debt to that man. One of these days, maybe, MAYBE, I will be in a position to pay it off and get my own life back.”
    “And are you treated poorly, Mr. Science Officer?” She leaned closer, getting right down into his face.
    He leaned closer as well. “You killed my ship, cut her into parts so that I’ll never get her back,” he snarled hotly. “You drag me all over the damned galaxy doing pirate shit, so that I’ll hang with you if we ever get caught by someone big enough to do the job. And I am not a free man, Sykora. You could walk away from this ship if you wanted. Just walk out the hatch at the next station we visit and never come back.” He tapped his finger on the top of the box as he spoke. “I do not have that luxury.”
    “You were a mouthy punk who pushed as hard as you could, when I met you,” she snarled back, nose almost touching his, voices so low that someone at the doorway might have mistaken them for lovers. “You were offered the choice to be here or somewhere else, somewhere where you could have escaped if you wanted. You chose to stay. You do not get to complain now.”
    The room was suddenly tiny.
    “So I should just trust that you people will do the right thing?” he growled back. “That Captain Sokolov really is a good guy and it will all turn out? Based on what?”
    She stopped and drew a breath.
    It broke the spell.
    She leaned back, flushed. She blinked.
    “Because it is not your decision to make,” she said quietly, tapping on the sarcophagus. “It’s hers. Anything else makes you just as bad as Sokolov.”
    If she had just slapped him, a good open–palmed right hand to the face, he probably would have been less surprised.
    Javier bit back any retort that might have come out of his mouth. He leaned back as well, drew a breath deep into his chest, tried to burn off the surge of adrenalin that threatened to overtake him.
    They stared at each other for several moments, neither moving.
    Javier nodded, mostly to himself, partly to her.
    He reached down and flipped open a panel by his right knee. Inside, a big red button. Obvious in its intent and purpose, scribed in half a dozen written languages, just in case.
    He leaned into it, watched it start flashing slowly. Off. On. Off.
    He straightened up and looked at the tall woman standing across the sarcophagus from him.
    “Who are you?” he said querulously.
    She straightened out to her own great height, towering a whole head above him in the tiny space.
    “I am a woman who will not take any shit in a man’s world, mister.”
    Javier nodded. That was about right.

Part Nine
    It had been nine hours. Javier was keeping himself awake with heavily caffeinated tea and regular potty breaks. He had napped some, early on, with Sykora, of all people, keeping watch while he did, lights dimmed and all sound off.
    This day had gotten completely and utterly weird.
    Now, there was nothing to do but wait.
    The sarcophagus had a timer function, but he had cranked the system down to the lowest setting to bring the woman out of her sleep. He figured that would do the least amount of damage, and let her recover best.
    If the theory of this machine was the same, she was slowly being refilled with the same synthetic blood that had been