Crystal Aris. Captain of Bragazza’s Royal Guard on the planet Hejmo, frowned into the viewscreen of her ship Reliant. “Now what’s happening?” she murmured. She was beginning to think she should have taken General Stanza’s advice, to take a warship with a full crew and a squad of soldiers.

  But she had thought her small explorer ship, rather than a larger one, stood a better chance of making it across the galaxy to the space station Attike. Her mission was a crucial one: Attike had brushed off her planet’s request for help, so she was going to make her plea in person. And she didn’t want to take a warship, since all ships would be needed in case they had to evacuate the planet.

  Now a larger ship was homing in on her; the name in angular red script read “Sidewinder.” She had a bad feeling about that ship: sleek, black to blend in with the darkness of space, and with a sharp pointed bow. Not one she recognized.

  Her ship shuddered as the Sidewinder caught it in its tractor beam. Crystal keyed her com, trying to keep panic out of her voice. “Release my ship. I am on an urgent mission.”

  “Oh, are ya?” came the answer. “Well, we’re coming on board. Open your airlock.”

  “I have nothing of value on board.”

  “We’ll see about that.”

  A squeal erupted as the airlocks jammed together. She had a pistol, but decided she’d only get shot if that was the first thing the intruders saw. She stood beside the control panel, erect in her silver armor, and waited. Her heart hammered, but she maintained her calm. Hysteria would not help her.

  The airlock irised open, forced from outside. A large black laser rifle came into sight, followed by its owner, a man in black leather, his hair pulled back, a sneer on his face. “Rodge Grimshaw, at your service,” he said with a mocking bow. “Who might you be?”

  “I’m Captain Crystal Aris of Bragazza. You have no business here.”

  The man stepped onto the deck, followed by two others. “All right, Patch and Stingray. Let’s check out the ship.”

  The second man who entered, a skinny fellow with a pockmarked face and a patch over one eye, glanced at Crystal and whistled. “She’s a looker! We should get a good price for her.”

  The third, taller man, said, “That armor looks valuable.”

  “Worth more if it’s on her,” Grimshaw said. “Patch, don’t get any ideas. Keep your hands off the merchandise. Nobody’ll pay for damaged goods.”

  “Besides, she looks like a fighter,” said the third man, smirking. “Get too close to her, Patch, and you might lose a hand.”

  “Don’t remind me,” said Patch. “I hate biters.”

  Crystal folded her arms. “As you can see, I’m not carrying anything of value. You might as well leave.”

  Grimshaw was pulling open cupboards and cabinets, whistling as he explored. Crystal glanced at her pistol, but suddenly the other two were pointing their weapons at her. Patch sidled over to her and with a leer, pocketed her pistol. “You won’t be needing this.”

  “Ship’s in good shape.” Grimshaw came over and slapped the control panel. “Truss her up and let’s get going. Stingray, you can pilot this rig.”

  She gasped. “You can’t take my ship! My whole planet is depending on me to get to Attike!”

  Grimshaw looked her in the eyes. “Argue with us, and we’ll gag you too. Don’t care about your planet. Is that clear?”

  She stiffened. “It’s clear enough. You’re an amoral animal without a conscience. Got it.”

  He laughed. “Nothing personal, babe.” He slapped her butt, whirled her around and locked handcuffs on her.

  Once on the Sidewinder, they forced her into a small cubicle near the rear of the ship. They cuffed her hands in front, around a pole securely fastened at both ends, and left her there. She looked for ways to escape, but one of them always had his eyes on her.

  A few hours later, Patch brought her a sandwich and soda. He unlocked her hands from the pole but kept them cuffed, and stood back with his rifle at the ready while she ate. The sandwich was meat paste on white bread.

  “I gather you’ve done this before,” she said.

  “Yup.” He sounded cheerful. “Easy money.”

  “Where are we going?” She didn’t really think he would answer, but to her surprise he did.

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  “Kawkab Souk. The market planet,” he said. “Great place for buying and selling any and everything.”

  “Including people?”

  “Sure. And with that silver armor, and that long black hair—” He reached out to lift a strand of her hair.

  She flinched and jerked away, showing her teeth.

  “Well, you’re not very friendly.” He shrugged. “Finish up that sandwich and I’ll leave you alone.”

  She managed to sleep, half lying and half sitting in the cubicle. Every time she opened her eyes, one of them was watching her.

  Later the next day, she could feel by the sinking of her stomach that they were coming in for a landing. She held tightly to the pole, and they scraped to a halt.

  When Grimshaw opened the airlock, hot air rushed in to dispel some of the stale recycled air in the ship. She wondered if they would take her into a building, but Grimshaw left on his own.

  Half an hour later he returned with two men in tow. One was a very fat man with a turban and small pale eyes. The other was a jittery fellow in yellow robes, who kept looking around nervously. Both of them stared at her. The fat one rubbed his hands together. “Oh, yes.”

  “Huh,” said the nervous one. “I could use her in my show. The sleeping princess.”

  She stood up, pulling her hands up along the pole. “You would be wise to let me go. Our space force will be searching for me.” She spoke with as much dignity as she could muster.

  “Well, maybe,” said the nervous man. “But y’know, princess, it’s a big galaxy. Take ‘em a while to figure out where you got to. ”

  “Three thousand credits,” said the fat man abruptly.

  The three of them, Grimshaw, the fat man and the nervous one, moved off a distance and discussed prices in low tones, with occasional glances at her. Disheartened, she sat down and stared glumly at the floor.

  She should have anticipated such a turn of events. If only she had thought ahead more wisely. Now what would happen to Bragazza? Her people would wait in vain, and the entity that drew closer every hour would fall on them. If she ever returned to her solar system, would she find only darkness there, only emptiness? Tears flooded her eyes. She shook her head and wiped them away on her sleeve. Whatever happened, she had to stay ready. There was no room for despair.

  “Four and a half!” exclaimed the nervous man. Grimshaw laughed and shook his hand. The fat man shrugged and turned his back, heading for the airlock.

  “All right, missy. You brought a good price.” Grimshaw looked pleased. He unlocked her cuffs from the pole and locked them again. “I’ll take her over there with you, make sure she makes it,” he said to the buyer. “I expect she won’t take too kindly to being part of your sideshow.”

  “The main attraction,” the man muttered. The look in his eyes was pure greed. Crystal realized she was nothing but an object to him, a means of making money, and her heart sank.

  They led her out of the airlock, and she looked in amazement at the scene before her. A barren plain stretched as far as she could see, and on it was set up a huge tent, vast and billowing in the slight breeze. From what she could see, the tent stretched for miles. Crowds of people were trailing from the landing area, filled with ships, to the broad entrance.

  There were people from every possible planet in the galaxy. She saw many with turbans and shawls and other strange headgear, as well as aliens such as she had never realized existed. Large feathery creatures wearing Tyrolean hats, huge lumbering creatures with leathery skin, beings dressed in skins, flowing robes, armor, and loincloths. She had never imagined such a motley crowd.

  Grimshaw shoved her along in front of him, the nervous man trotting at his side. “Welcome to Kawkab Souk,” he said. “Where you will spend the rest of your lucrative life. Lucrative for this fellow, anyway.” He gave a cruel chuckle.

  She bit her lips, looking for a chance to escape. He had a tight grip on her arm, and he had his weapon in his other hand. When they reached the crowds entering the tents, he turned to speak to the other man and she saw her chance. She whirled, kicked his feet out from under him, and ran.

  She ran hard, desperately trying not to trip over anyone, pushing between people in the crowd without heed to who or what they were. She heard Grimshaw cry, “Stop!” behind her. Putting down her head, she kept going, feet pounding on the dusty ground. If she could make it inside the entrance, she felt sure she could lose herself in the chaotic array of stalls and customers.

  She ran abruptly into a blue clad being. She looked up and saw two of them, burly rhino-like creatures with horns protruding from their skulls and amused expressions, holding lances. She kicked at the shin of the one in front of her, who seized her arm in an iron grip. “Hey, is this yours?” he called.

  Grimshaw came up panting, the buyer at his side. “Yes! Thank you.”

  He grabbed her arm again and pulled her along. Her tears fell in frustration.

  They walked her roughly down the aisle. She caught confused glimpses of a myriad of items for sale: pottery, fabrics, paintings, statues, musical instruments, clothing, books, furniture, any and everything you could think of. Halfway down the aisle they pulled her into a separate stand behind a curtain.

  She saw a cot with embroidered sheets on it. “You really make any money at this?” Grimshaw asked.

  “Oh, yeah. People will pay to see a real princess who’s been asleep a few centuries. We had a girl from one of the forest planets, but she was allergic to the sleeping agent. Had to dump her. This one should be good for a while.”

  Grimshaw stood by while the nervous man, who seemed less nervous now he was on his own turf, took her into a room in back. He let her wash her face and clean up briefly. Then he held out a threadbare robe of gold and scarlet for her to put on.

  She backed away, shaking her head. “No. I’m not part of your show, whatever it is.”

  He smiled, showing jagged teeth, which was not endearing. “Aw, come on. It won’t be so bad. Just think, you could be with that fat dude who only offered three thou for you. No appreciation for beauty.”

  Two more men, bald and wearing scimitars, showed up and stood behind her, their arms crossed. Among the three of them, they managed to get the elaborate robes on her, then the buyer pushed a tiara on her hair. He stood back and scrutinized her. “Looking good,” he said.

  They led her out to the cot and forced her to lie down. Metal cuffs snapped over her wrists; they arranged the long sleeves to cover them. “Now, lady, you’re going to take a nap. Just relax, you won’t feel a thing.”

  He closed a translucent cover over the cot. Crystal began to panic, thinking she would asphyxiate. A mist began to stream from holes in the glass cover. What was this? Was she supposed to be Sleeping Beauty or something equally sinister? She struggled, horrified.

  It was no use. Drowsiness overtook her, and she fell into darkness.

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