Piff approached the hatchway where Lissa still peeked up from the ladder. She ducked her head and scrambled toward the hold below before he spotted her. Reaching the bottom, she gestured frantically for the others to hide.
The space officer was lithe as he made his way quickly down, his ray pistol drawn and held to the ready. Lissa and the others peered out at him from a cracked inner door, and the bot translated as the alien reported back up in squeaky tones, “Naught but empty cells here, Captain! She’s a slaver ship, no doubt of it.”
He went on a little further to where the octopus tank still stood full of Earth saltwater, “We’ve got a live one here, Captain. Looks like an Europan. Little guy—blue-ring by the look of him.”
“See if you can establish communication,” came the order from above, “Do they have a Translator?”
“Negative, Captain,” Piff said after a moment of searching about.
“Very well,” the Patrol Captain sounded resigned, “We’ll haul them into port and let HQ sort it out. Blasted space pirates,” he grumbled.
Piff began to turn away from the octopus tank and Lissa ducked back.
“Hold it,” Piff said. Lissa winced. Had he seen her?
“What is it?”
“I have motion in the crew quarters off the main cargo bay.” Lissa felt tight and smothered. Glancing behind her, she saw there was no other exit to the room they were in. What would he do when he caught them?
“Investigate,” came the order, “Be careful, Mr. Piff.”
Lissa retreated from the doorway, gesturing frantically for the others to scoot back. Eyes wide in the darkness, Shika obeyed, hauling Ash by one arm and Shiro by the other. Stephanie tried to disappear into a corner behind them. Lissa held her breath.
Through the sliver in the door Lissa watched as Mr. Piff crept nearer, his ray pistol out in front of him. She closed her eyes, wondering again what he would do when he caught them, and then something made her open them again. These creatures obviously did not approve of slavery and piracy, and she was the victim here. Why was she hiding? Standing erect, she pushed the door open, slowly so as not to startle the officer into firing preemptively, and said, “Don’t shoot, we’re unarmed.”
Mr. Piff seemed startled. It must have been odd to see a girl standing in the lighted corridor staring calmly down at him, and his four eyes narrowed at the sight of the other Earthlings crouched in various positions behind her, but he recovered quickly and spoke in a civil tone, “Are you members of the ship’s crew?”
“No,” Lissa shook her head, “We were the ones in those cells.” She pointed behind him at the now-empty glass rooms.
“I see,” said Mr. Piff. He still held his radio, “Medical, report to the cargo bay. Five escaped slaves,” He added apologetically to Lissa, “I have to make sure you’re not carrying planet-diseases.”
“Oh!” Lissa knew enough about anatomy to realize that her body might carry microbes that an alien’s immune system was not accustomed to. She settled back against the bulkhead to wait.
It did not take long. Another meerkat-looking creature scampered down the ladder with a pack on his back, plopped it down beside them and went to work taking samples of their sweat, hair, saliva, etc. Only when he was satisfied that they carried no harmful disease did the Medic give a nod to Mr. Piff.
Snapping to attention, Mr. Piff said quite formally, “Allow me to introduce myself,” he bowed stiffly, “The name is Piff—Arthur Piff.”
Lissa hesitated, and then gave a sort of half-curtsy bow in return, “Melissa Phelps,” she offered, “but everyone calls me Lissa.”
Shika stepped forward, followed by Ash. Lissa half turned and jerked her head at Stephanie, “This is my best friend Stephanie Wu, we were captured together. The taller girl there is Shika of the Mursi people of Earth, and her brother Ash,” she nodded toward the last boy, “That’s Shiro of the Kazakh people, and this is Lollipop.” She grinned at this last, patting the bright pink alien affectionately.
“A pleasure to meet you all,” Mr. Piff squeaked.
“So,” Lissa said hesitantly looking him up and down, “You guys are from outer space, right?”
Mr. Piff looked gravely at her, “Regulations forbid us from making First Contact beyond introductions with indigenous primitive races.”
“Um, okay,” Lissa was unsure what he meant exactly, but not wanting to piss off the large warrior rodent she tried again, “So, are you here to rescue us?” she asked, trying not to sound too hopeful.
Mr. Piff shuffled his feet now in an embarrassed sort of way, “Not exactly,” he said apologetically.
“But you’re definitely anti-slavery,” Lissa commented, trying to reassure herself.
“Space Patrol exists to ensure the ethical behavior of sentient species in the universe,” this voice came from the ladder as the Patrol Captain descended. Lissa scooted over in the tight corridor to give him room, and then gave a short bow of respect in his direction. It seemed the thing to do, with all the alien manners she had observed so far.
“Well, slavery is unethical,” she countered, prepared to debate the point.
“I agree with you,” the Captain rebutted calmly, “However the Galactic Trade Company which runs this sector does not consider slavery to be illegal so long as it conforms with certain regulations. We are bound to uphold the legal codes of the system in which we operate.”
“So you will allow us to be taken?” That was Shiro, his chin up in a regal tilt of his head, voice demanding.
“If you were seized legally, there is nothing I can do,” the strength of his sorrow dissipated Lissa’s affront.
“But if we were captured illegally?” she asked cleverly, scenting a loophole.
“Then you are free to go, and we will enforce the laws against kidnapping and piracy. Captain Nask would be spaced.”
“Spaced?” Stephanie asked, bewildered by the term. It was the first word she had spoken since they were captured, and Lissa reached out and gripped her friend’s hand tightly, grateful for the other girl’s presence.
“Shoved out an airlock without a mask or protection,” It was clear from his tone of voice that Mr. Piff was grimly delighted by the idea, “Instant but painful execution.”
“Wow, you guys don’t mess around,” Lissa muttered. Stephanie gave her hand a tight squeeze.
“How do we know if our enslavement was legal or not?” Ash wondered practically. He thumped his spear on the metal plates of the corridor floor to bring them back to the point.
“My men are checking on this right now,” the Patrol Captain assured them, “Judging by the resistance we met in boarding, it is highly likely you are not Captain Nask’s legal property.”
“And what qualifies as a legal capture of slaves?” Shiro’s question was almost philosophical, as though his interest
