He hurried to comply.
The tall woman had a formidable presence. She had to be Bisma. She wasn’t young, perhaps fifty or so years. Her cheeks had a slightly gaunt appearance and her hair was wound into a gray-flecked bun. Regardless of her age, she was extraordinarily attractive. She scanned Zara with her dark eyes as the guard stepped away.
“Off with you. She’s not going to do me any harm, are you, Zara?”
Zara shook her head. “No… miss.”
The guard left.
Bisma’s face immediately softened. She’d made her show of power on the doorstep of her master’s house. However, it wasn’t necessary to continue it. Zara relaxed a fraction.
“You must be hungry,” Bisma said, clucking her tongue. “I’ll feed you.”
She’d not eaten much in the last few days. However, she was also nauseous and unsure if her loss of appetite would let her eat. She nodded, though. Best behave and avoid making matters worse.
“Come, come.” Bisma led Zara to the back of the sprawling house to an airy kitchen.
The Vendu didn’t care much about food. They had no concept of elaborate dishes with mixed ingredients. They preferred simple fare and the idea of eating out in a restaurant bemused them. What purpose did it serve? A frequent question made by her fellow studen
ts at the university. She’d tried to explain how it was not about food, but socializing. The Vendu approach to socializing was also very basic. They either sparred in the combat arena or fucked. She wondered how the Vendu students who had been sent to New Phoenix were coping with life in a human city.
Bisma offered her a platter of sliced meats, a sort of cheese made from a dairy substitute, and fruit. The best bit was the fruit, which included juicy kiwis and sweet pieces of watermelon. She drank another glass of water and wiped her lips. It had been easier to eat than she thought, although with Bisma watching her, Zara felt like an exhibit in a zoo.
“Good,” she purred. “You have more color in your cheeks.”
“Thank you. Miss.” What should she call Bisma?
The nurse—although Zara thought she was more like a matron or schoolmistress than a nurse—escorted Zara to another part of the house.
“Your room.” Bisma flung open a door.
It wasn’t a prison cell, but only just. The contents were sparse: bed, chair, and desk, and a small closet for her clothes. She didn’t have any clothes.
“I’ve nothing to wear.”
“You won’t be wearing much, Zara.”
Zara shivered. It wasn’t cold in the room. Bisma had reminded her that she was expected to be naked for the judge. But what about when he was at work?
“All the time?” she queried, walking into the adjoining shower room. That too was basic.
“I suppose not. You’ll need something to wear when he’s at work,” Bisma agreed.
She returned to stand by the closet. “I’ve clothes back at my apartment. I could do with my notes to help with my studies. I don’t want to get behind.” Zara’s request was genuine; she would like to keep up with her studies.
Bisma pursed her lips. “That’s not for me to decide. You’ll have to ask the judge for permission to access your possessions.”
“I will,” Zara said with determination. She wasn’t going to be a walkover. Time was ticking back at home in New Phoenix and she couldn’t afford to let things slip for too long. She had to show some assertiveness or it would be too late. She dearly hoped that the judge had connections and that he wielded some influence in other areas of the Vendu imperial government. He came from Halos, the Vendu home planet and that had to be a useful connection.
What now? She’d nothing to do. Nothing to read or watch. Trees obscured the view from the window. She was tired, but probably wouldn’t be able to sleep.
Bisma briefly disappeared into the bathroom. When she returned she was holding something in her hand. “I shall apply a salve to your bottom. Lower your pants.”
“Now…” Zara stuttered.
“Yes. Now.” Bisma was a nurse and the last thing Zara needed to do was make her an enemy. Quite the contrary, she needed a friend. Also, she suspected if she disobeyed, Bisma would report it to the judge and then… she could guess what would happen next.
She turned and lowered her pants to just below the buttocks.