---Massage---

  ---Baasa’s perspective---

  I’m about to walk out of the massage room where I just spent an hour getting my body rubbed down by some very talented hands (might just have been two of them but that extra finger makes aaaaall the difference(!)) when I stop.

  I pull out my holo and tap it a few times.

  A *ping* sounds from behind me.

  I turn to see the handsome masseur frowning at his holo for a moment before looking up at me, surprise on his face.

  I wink at him, waggle my thumb and little finger at my ear and mouth “Call me!”

  The Human has a bewildered look on his face that nonetheless lets me know to expect his call at some point in the near future as I dip through the door backwards.

  I saunter through the halls of the spa where, earlier, I participated in my sister’s bathhouse ritual, washing her girlhood away along with ássi, Helga, Mama Kat and Mama Heidi…

  Magnús and Vol did not participate… on account of being boys(!)

  In a little bit, once everyone’s ready, our mamas will go back to the meadhall (their idea, don’t want to cramp our style… which I appreciate) and the rest of us will head out for Tunie’s last wild night before she ties the knot with that man of hers and’s lost forever(!)

  *Throws hand to forehead for the tragedy of it*(!)

  I’m just wondering whether that pretty Persian girl might be coming and whether she might… shall we say be amenable to my company again when I round the corner and have all thoughts of flirting targets immediately banished from my mind.

  I swoop down onto the couch beside my clearly upset sister and attempt to diffuse “Heeeeey… Tunie… What’s wrong?! Your massage can’t have been that bad, can it(?)” with a sympathetic smile.

  “No… no… it’s nothing, Bassie.” she lies, unconvincingly.

  I cock an eyebrow at my sister who looks like she’s on the verge of tears and say “Aaaaalright… why don’t we try that again and, this time, why not try to look even more like you’ve just been forced to watch someone putting Hati down(!)”

  She bursts into a half giggle, half sob at the joke but stays silent.

  “Babes… what is it…?” I prompt, gently “…Is it cold feet or-?”

  “No, no… It’s nothing to do with Victor…” she whimpers, honestly.

  “O…K…? What is it then?”

  “It’s stupid…” she mumbles.

  “I’m your big sister! You can tell me anything, Tunie!… Even if it is stupid(!)” I smile, giving her a little shouldernudge.

  She sighs “It was Vol…”

  “What did he do?” I ask, immediately about ready to resort to first degree murder if our brother said something to psych Tunie out a day and a half before what’s meant to be the happiest day of her life!

  “He… he just… he brought Mum’s tiara to the meadhall earlier… I just had time to process it during the massage…” she snivels, meekly.

  “Ah…” I say, realisation dawning.

  That tiara was what our birthmother wore on her and Dad’s wedding day… visible in a good proportion of the photos we had of them after they… weren’t around anymore…

  I sigh and gently quip “And I’m assuming it’s not just that you think the colours will clash with the rest of your ensemble to all those trichromatic eyes, is it(!)”

  Her ears waggle as she shakes her head.

  I take a deep breath and reach to put my left arms around her shoulders, cuddling her into my side.

  A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  “I just wish…” my baby sister keens.

  “I know…” I reassure, honestly.

  Of course, when your parents disappear without even doing you the courtesy of letting you know they are, for certain, dead, every major life event brings you to the point of wondering if, perhaps this time…?

  It’s ridiculous of course!

  They’re no more likely to show up on Tunie’s wedding day than they are to show up any other Friday of the year… that is to say, not very!

  Still, every time, you can’t help but imagine them dramatically bursting in partway through!

  Some part of you can’t help but hope that the last event they weren’t there for will stay the last.

  “I feel like I barely knew them…” says the girl under my arms who was nearly [10 years] younger than me when we got marooned on this planet “…what would they even think if they could see me now? Would they-”

  “They would be proud, Tunie!” I interrupt, fiercely “They would be so proud of the woman you’ve become!”

  She turns her head to look up at me from my shoulder and asks “How do you-?”

  “I know because I’m proud of you, dummy(!)” I smile “I can’t imagine they would look at you and see anything but what I see!… A strong, intelligent girl who point blank refused to be broken by the world! Who never accepted anyone who tried to hold her back from the things she wanted! A survivor who’s stared down pirates, tsunamis, half tonne warrior Spider queens and (worst of all(!)) the dean and curriculum committee of New Troms? and you’ve come through it all!… I’m so proud of you, Tunie, and they would be too!”

  She chuckles and says “Thanks, Bassie… I think I needed to hear that…” quietly but her voice no longer as shaky as before.

  “Any time!” I say, giving her a little squeeze for emphasis.

  ---Torul’s perspective---

  My feet press into the unnaturally hard muscles beneath them, my hands gripping four handles attached to the ceiling.

  I’m staring at the backs of the heads of two others of my kind but I know better than to try and engage them in conversation.

  The solid body we’re standing on reverberates in pleasure from beneath us.

  “That’s enough for today, girls… Line up…” he orders, lazily.

  The three of us climb down from the table and go to stand by the door with the other two.

  All five of us know that [tonight] is the [night].

  The conspiracy is too big now!

  The risk of discovery is too great and we won’t get a better opportunity than this!

  But… that means whoever he picks… will be left behind…

  I say ‘all five of us know’ and, while that’s technically correct, Muluda isn’t exactly in a fit state to care…

  My attention (though not my eyes) drifts to the glassy eyed girl standing next to me, entirely stripped of any free will she could have been said to possess after displeasing our master, a few Terran months ago.

  It’s absolutely chilling to me that, at any point since then, the whole plot could have been exposed by him simply asking her ‘Do you know of any conspiracy against my interests, Morgiana?’ and, as far as I know, he never has!

  I don’t think he would have the patience to play ignorant if he knew!

  I know it’s terrible but part of me hopes she’s the one he chooses…

  At least she won’t care about anything he does to her until after we return with rescue and she’s given her mind back… if that happens…

  We might all end up blank slates like her or worse if we’re caught!

  The giant Human stands from the table, his bulging, pale skin glistening with the massage oil we applied to it.

  The dark haired, dark bearded, glowing eyed man stands around a head taller than any of us.

  He’s two or three heads shorter than most men of our kind would be… but he’s likely more than five times their mass!

  His footsteps *boom* against the smooth, light floor as his bright pale cat with swords for teeth perks up from her cushion and pads to our master’s thigh.

  King Cyrus looks down on the five of us and grins “SO!… Which of you lovely ladies will be entertaining me tonight?” in a resoundingly deep voice.

  “Me! Me! Me! Pick me, Master!” we all plead, as he requires us to do.

  My heart is thundering in my chest and my guts swooping, hoping, more than any other night, not to be picked.

  For pity’s sake, please don’t pick me!

  The man raises a fat, [13cm] long indexfinger and pretends he just can’t decide while he enjoys listening to us clamour for him.

  Finally, he extends his palm over our heads and we all fall silent.

  “IIIII… chooooose…”

  His hand comes down on Muluda’s head.

  “…Morgiana!”

  The volitionless woman walks to stand at his side.

  I feel the sweetest relief I’ve ever felt… not only at not having been chosen but at the fact that the one who was is in no danger of panicking and blowing the entire conspiracy because she thinks she’ll be left behind!

  My relief doesn’t last long though.

  I watch in horror as his hand reextends.

  “Aaaaand…”

  Not me! Not me! Not me! PLEASE, not me!

  “…Briseis!”

  I look at Briu to see the face of a woman who is absolutely about to try and make some excuse and risk everything for all of us!

  I shoot her the briefest withering glare and see the memory of everything we talked about return to her eyes.

  He won’t accept ‘no’ for an answer and selling us out won’t exonerate you to him!

  There’s still a chance for you, Briu, if you just let us escape to bring back help!

  There is no chance for any of us if we’re all discovered, tortured and have our wills ripped out!

  Please be smart, Briu!

  I breathe a silent sigh of relief as I watch her see sense and go with the man.

  “Don’t worry, girls!” he smirks, walking to his bedchambers with Briu and Muluda under his arms “There’s always tomorrow!”

  Not if I can help it, you bastard!

  Torul