Page 14 of The Commander

That was one of the many names for a parental figure:father, pop, papa,wasn’t it? Dad. Daddy. He liked it.

Bastian poked her leg. “Your dad?”

“He’s dead. How could I be so stupid? Can you just let me go? It was all an accident. I should never have left Springfield. I should never have joined a town.” She shifted her hips, moving as if she wanted to sit up.

Did she think they were finished?

He tugged on her leg hard, shifting her down the table in a sudden, sharp jerk.

She yelped.

“Don’t get distracted, little Kitten. Tell me it all again. No deviations. Why were you out after curfew when you know that breaking any of the laws is a death sentence?”

“I just told you!” she shouted.

Bastian moved from her feet to her head, fisted her hair, and yanked her up to meet his eyes. She started to protest.

He snapped his teeth right at the edge of her face. Had she forgotten how easy it would be to kill her? He was in charge, and she was a tied up, helpless little piece of good-to-eat meat.

With her entire body trembling, the words rushed out of her again in a muddled repeat of everything she’d said so far. Fat tears rolled down her cheeks, with the hot ambrosia of horror filling his head until his eyes threatened to roll back into his skull with drugged bliss. She smelled so fucking good.

“You humans are not very nice to each other.” He released her, shaking his hands free of the silky strands of her hair and stepping back.

He should open the door and let in fresher air. But he didn’t want to share any of it with the red hats. No, he wanted to claim it all for himself. Keep it. Eat it up.

“Dad said never to trust anyone. And I did,” she whispered.

The humans maintained a regular stream of petty squabbling. Fighting for hierarchy and supplies—they forgot all about their masters who could squeeze their lives to nothing on a whim. It insulted him that they’d all failed to recall how much he enjoyed watching them suffer.

Mister Danov kicked people out of the town, weakening the human workforce. The man didn’t have permission for actions like that. How long had he been doing this? No reports to that effect from duty had landed on Bastian’s desk.

This woman said local rebels around Bastian’s base were so bad they now gathered in large groups—visited the towns. Outrageous.

Duty soldiers left and returned to the base for their patrols. No mention of rebels. Not since the two from last week.

The reds were leaving pertinent information out in their reports. How unusually intelligent and independent of them. The duty was not made to think, only obey.

Chosen as soldiers by the Sarrian because of their hunting skills, Bastian’s red hats must know about the rebels, the trouble in the town—this unauthorized camp outside of it—so why didn’t he know too?

Since human blood acted as a drug for the red hats, he had no doubt that they weren’t above making deals with unscrupulous leaders behind Bastian’s back. He suspected they’d scared the food away. Their help was a simple thing, and they’d give it if Mister Danov bribed them with human blood.

Not being a fucking ambassador, Bastian let the humans pick their little spokesperson. The man was a corpulent cockroach. A former military representative, Mister Danov claimed the role of go between. He had the simple job of making sure the humans understood Bastian’s expectations.

Maybe he was helping the rebels?

All this tiresome drama was just one more reason to rid the planet of humans. There were other beasts of burden that could do the work of cultivating this planet.

Keeping his attention steady on the girl, she started talking again to fill up his thoughtful silence with excuses he hadn’t asked for. “I tried to stay, follow the rules. I know how to work, and I was going to, but the pig wanted me to pay for the right to work and live in his town. Sex and servitude. Are you kidding me? I wouldn’t do it.”

It didn’t sound so bad to Bastian, really, as long as it was a female like this, on her knees giving him the sex and servitude. It could be pleasant.

“After I made the traps, I set them up near the river. Closer. But there was nothing. No fish in the river. Did you kill off the fish?”

He didn’t dignify that with an answer. Humans had killed off the fish years before his arrival. If they left nothing to spawn, it couldn’t repopulate, could it?

“I had to keep going farther out to set my traps. Nothing. No food. Even the rats don’t come around Dalewood. I was going to go early this morning so I could make it back. I should have had plenty of time. I was just trying to find something to eat,” she repeated.

“And you did all of that ‘food searching’ alone?” he clarified again.

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