Debatable Space

Lena

I am released from semi-coma. Captain Flanagan sits opposite me. His crewmen are near, ready to immobilise me again if necessary.

“How’s the nose?”

Flanagan winces at my words. “Broken in eleven places, jaw was shattered,” he says, carefully. “And I’m taking shots twice a day till the bone heals.”

I reach out and slap him in the face. I’m so fast, no one ever registers what has happened until “Jesus fucking Christ!” screams Flanagan.

I beam.

Flanagan is red in the face.

“I have some questions to ask you,” he snarls.

“I’ll give you some painkillers, Cap’n,” says the scrawny big-nosed woman.

“I’m fine. Lena, this is our profession. We’re not going to hurt you. We’re just going to ransom you.”

I flicker, as if about to strike again, and he flinches.

“Do you know who I am?” I say.

“Yes I think we do.”

“And do you know who you are?”

“We’re a freelance capitalist group.”

“You are the dregs of humanity. You are less than human.”

“That’s rich, coming from you.”

“You are less than animal. You are a viral infection. I’m glad we killed one of your men. I laugh myself to sleep thinking of that.”

“We’re asking for a trillion galactic credits, plus a fleet of warships, and our own sector of inhabitable space.”

I pause, stunned.

“You won’t get it,” I say coolly.

“The Cheo is a rich man.”

“He won’t pay.”

“If he doesn’t pay, you’ll die.”

“Then I’ll die, because he won’t pay. The Cheo doesn’t negotiate with kidnappers. That’s one of his rules.”

“He’ll make an exception in your case.”

“You’d be surprised.” I smile, taunting them. Shut up, Lena, you’re just giving them reasons to kill you.

“Do you know how old the Cheo is?” I ask, tauntingly.

“He’s about… a hundred?”

“Two hundred and ten. He’s had eighteen wives. Dozens of mistresses. Countless lovers. Do you know how many children he has?”

Flanagan is silent, sizing me up, apparently confused.

“You could populate a country with his children,” I explain. “He is concupiscent, fruitful, and very old. Why should he jeopardise everything for the sake of me? One daughter among thousands?”

“You’re saying we should kill you then?”

“I’m saying you should release me. He won’t pay the ransom. I’ll get my own people to pay you, I’m good for a million credits.”

“We want the Cheo to pay.”

“My money not good enough?”

“It’s a… political statement.”

I roar with laughter.

Then I ask, baffled: “What do you mean, ‘political’?”

“We are democrats. We stand against everything the Cheo represents.”

“This is droll.”

“But we know he has a soft spot for you. We know he’ll pay our ransom. He would pay ten times what we ask, to get you back. We know what we have, Lena, we know your value.” Oh fuck Lena.

“I don’t know what you mean.”

Flanagan looks at me. I can see him involuntarily stirring at the sight of my strong young body, my firm breasts, my luxuriant black hair, my unblemished features.

“You’re good, Lena. Very good. You carry it well.”

“I don’t want to talk any more about this.”

“You’re right, the Cheo would never pay a ransom for a daughter. We’ve tried it before, and failed. He rebuffed us. We killed eleven daughters, he didn’t flinch.”

“You killed eleven?”

“We are pirates, Lena. We rob, we kill, it’s what we do. We may have ideals, we may hate the Cheo and his empire of evil, but let’s fucking face it, we are not the good guys.” I warned you Lena.

“But you would not kill me? Me? Kill? Me?” I feel a wave of panic coming upon me. “You would not?”

He stares at me, cold, unflinching.

I leap. But he’s too fast. The spray hits me in mid-air, he rolls away and I land with a crunch. Hands pick me up and put me back in my seat.

“Y, o, u, w, o, u, l, d, n, o,…” I despair of completing the sentence. My tongue is like lead. My limbs hang heavy on me, each breath is like a plane crash.

“We will kill you if we have to. If necessary, we will cut off a limb at a time until the Cheo meets our demands. We will torture you. We will place your body in oil and boil it until your skin peels away and your sinews and muscles shine through. We will leave nothing but the brain, and if he doesn’t pay, we will destroy the brain too.”

“I………………………………………………………

…….”

“He will pay, Lena. He will do anything to keep you safe. We know this man, we have studied him for many years. He has had many lovers and he regards them all with contempt. He has had four thousand sons and they mean nothing to him. Five thousand daughters, and he wouldn’t cross a street to stop them being raped or maimed. He has no friends, there is no one he cares about. Except you Lena. You are special to him.” They know of course.

“Because you’re not his daughter, are you Lena? Nor are you as young, and silly, and naive as you look. You’re older than I am. You’re older than the Cheo is. We estimate you’re at least a thousand years old. You are something else, Lena, the last relic of the old times, the oldest human in existence. You are the one they call Xabar, the founder of the Cheo dynasty.”

“Y… e… s,” I tell him.

“Xabar, the Cheo will pay to have you back, but not because you’re his daughter. Because you are his mother. ”

I no longer struggle for words, I merely allow my eyes to blaze with triumph.

“Jeezu, she looks f good for her f age,” says the child called Jamie.

Yes I do!