Hanna and the Hitman - Honey Phillips Page 0,4

as the other one.”

With a disgusted noise, he walked away as she collapsed into a shaking heap. A small hand reached through and patted her back.

“You did very well,” the prairie dog said soothingly. “I am Khuda, Daughter of Khara. What are you called?”

“I’m Hanna,” she said weakly, still staring after the alien. “How can you say I did well? I didn’t even try to find out what’s going on or why I’m here.”

Khuda gave her a look of what could only be described as pity. “We are on a Derian slave ship. What do you think is going to happen?”

Slave ship? The words rang in her ears.

“Slavery is illegal. Who are the Derians?” she asked stupidly.

“You are not familiar with their species?” When she shook her head, Khuda sighed. “I see. You are from a pre-spaceflight planet?”

“We have spaceflight.”

“Beyond your own system?”

She shook her head, and Khuda sighed again.

“Gathering specimens from primitive planets is not allowed, but I doubt that anyone is going to stop them. I have heard rumors that the new Emperor is making an effort to enforce the laws but…” Khuda cast a worried look over her shoulder at the other animal. “In the long run, it makes little difference where you came from. We are all subject to the same fate.”

“Being sold?” Her lips felt numb as she forced out the words.

“Yes.” Khuda gave her an appraising look. “You should fetch a good price. You appear to be young and healthy.”

“Is that supposed to make me feel better?” she asked bitterly.

Khuda shrugged. “You value your more expensive possessions. Hopefully that means your owner will be less likely to damage you.”

Hanna shuddered at the unpleasant speculations that immediately crossed her mind, but she forced herself to remember that she was not the only victim here. “What of you?”

“We Kheer have a gift for fine metalwork. Many races value that.” She looked over her shoulder again. Her companion was now slumped against the back wall, unmoving. “I am more concerned about Khira. She has never been strong, and I’m not sure she will survive if we are separated.”

“They’re going to separate you?”

“It seems inevitable. Two sales are more profitable than one.”

Hanna couldn’t decide what was worse—to be as utterly alone as she felt right now or to be with a loved one, knowing that you would be torn apart. Not that she had any loved ones to worry about. Since her aunt had died the previous year, she had spent all her time learning to run the small business she had inherited.

“You said that they weren’t supposed to take me. If some authority found out, would they take me home?”

Khuda shook her head, her eyes sympathetic. “Interaction with pre-spaceflight worlds is forbidden. You would be freed from the Derians, but you do not seem like a fighter. Without a protector, I suspect you would soon find yourself enslaved again.”

“A fighter?” A half-hysterical laugh escaped Hanna. “No, I’m not a fighter.”

She hated even verbal confrontations. Terrified and overwhelmed, she turned her back on Khuda and curled into a ball, tears slipping down her cheeks. She must have cried herself to sleep, but when she woke, hoping that it had all been a terrible nightmare, nothing had changed.

Time passed in a monotonous blur. The lights over the cages never dimmed, so the only way she could measure the passage of time was when one of the Derian guards came by to fill the food and water bowls. The food consisted of tasteless gray pellets, but she forced herself to choke them down. The purpose of the stream beneath the back of the cage became horrifyingly apparent after several large but unmistakable turds floated by. Her cheeks flamed with embarrassment every time she had to use it, but she had no other choice.

She looked for the other human but never caught sight of her again. At least Khuda would sit and talk to her, distracting her from both her misery and the ever-present fear of what would happen to her next.

The ship stopped twice. Each time, a group of cages would be hoisted out of position and disappear down the corridor. They didn’t return. Fortunately, Khuda and her sister were not among those who vanished.

Less than one feeding cycle after the second stop, the ship stopped again, and two of the Derians came hurrying down the corridor.

“I don’t like it. We’re never going to make a profit selling her here,” one of them said.

“Captain’s order,” said the other. “He says