Page 38 of Dirty December

“Mr. Leonid, please. Miss Human, you are being taken to a human clearinghouse on Lynx-Nineteen. Was that your intention?”

“No. I was hoping for something on Sapien-Three.” She was hoping for anything, anywhere, honestly. A human withoutan elevated degree or a family had pretty crummy prospects. “Actually, I was hoping not to be on this ship at all, at least not in the cargo bay!”

The old lion-dude crept forward. She could see him now. She usually only heard his voice on the intercom making sure the service droids had delivered adequate food and water. Her “cell” was the size of four bunks pressed together and twice as wide. It had a bed and a minuscule shower/waste removal unit, a sink, and a media viewer. Of course, all the shows were from the Felix Orbus Production company, but still... She was getting into shows likePride to PrideandCubs Say the Strangest Things.

She’d seen pictures of Leonids back on Sapien-Three, her home planet. They were huge, usually about seven-feet tall with lashing tails and manes the size of a walk-in closet. This guy reminded her of her hopeless fourth-grade math teacher, who had finally given up on teaching and let them play games on their comms all year. He had the same air of wizened exhaustion to him, even if he did tower over her through the partition.

“Could you clarify, Miss Human?”

“Layla. Miss Layla, Mr. Leonid. I said I’m not supposed to be in your cargo bay.”

“Why not? That is the usual way humans travel aboard off-world ships on long journeys when they haven’t paid a passenger fare. If you only pay cargo rates, this is what you get. You have adequate space to sleep and eat.”

“Yeah, but I’m not supposed to be cargo! I wasn’t even planning to go off-world!”

The shaggy gray brows shot up and got lost in wispy gray fur. “You didn’t negotiate your own contract?”

“No. I’m trafficked. I told you that.”

“You did not! You mostcertainlydid not! Leonids do not hold with slavers. What your owners do with you once you’re paid... that’s their business. But a subject must negotiate theirown purchase. Sweet Bastet.” He flapped one paw to his cheek and knocked his own glasses off.

Layla tried to remember the first few days on board the ship. She had been drugged out of her mind and sleeping a lot. That wasn’t their fault, that was Paul-the-Wonder-Slug’s fault.Maybe I dreamed I had a conversation. Or maybe I did have it, but I slurred so badly that I made no sense.

“Miss Human, our craft is not going to Sapien-Three, or even out of the Felix Orbus Galaxy. I can arrange for someone to refund your purchase price to Lynx-Nineteen.”

“Good luck.”

“Yes, well... That’s only one small problem. Here is another. Youarecargo on our vessel. You are listed on our manifest. Your passage was paid as part of the contract price. With the contract refunded, you owe us passage fees.”

“Good luck getting that, too. I’m broke. I would negotiate a contract with your captain if he needs someone to cook or clean. I’m good at those things.” Layla leaned against the glass partition between her accommodations and the rest of the ship, hoping Leonids couldn’t smell liars. She could clean just fine. Cooking was a work in progress, but you had to have food and a heat source at the same time to practice.

“I have another proposition for you. It’s much easier work. All you have to do is hold still.”

RU SAT IN HIS QUARTERS. As captain and owner of the ship, his quarters were the biggest and best—but they weren’t much in the way of luxury. Once, he would have gone in for all that finery, but new jade carvings or silk sleep hangings didn’t mean much anymore. One concession to luxury was the bejeweled frame that held Silvia’s picture. It mocked him as he looked at it from hisempty bed, and he put it hastily away. He didn’t like to look at those laughing eyes, didn’t want to imagine her bold voice or her flirtatious purr.

He’d missed his shot there. A captain wasn’t supposed to fraternize with his requisitions officer, even if he was King of the pride. He’d planned to ask her about a courtship once her year aboard was officially up for renegotiation.

Well... speaking of shots to take... he could use a shot of Leonid homebrew right now. Or even one of those weak little human cocktails.

Marcus was going to ask the only remaining human in the hold, a female, if she’d like to transfer her contract to the crew of theComet Stalker.

The crew was currently Marcus and himself. Marcus had already made it clear that he would be having no part in this experiment. He was much older, and he assumed his sperm viability wasn’t the best. That meant this insemination business was up to him.

“But I’m not ready to be a father!”

That wasn’t exactly true. With cubs being in short supply and almost every planet seeming like a motherless wasteland and Queens being all graying or young kits...the idea of family danced through Ru’s dreams on a regular basis.

It’s just like paying for a surrogate, Ru tried to reassure himself. Some wealthy Leonids had done that, paying for a female who would enter her first heat in a few years, booking her womb for a litter in the future.

Gods, what desperate times.

Marcus knocked on the sliding hatch to his room, then entered the access code without waiting for a reply.

“I told the girl she would perform a personal service for you. I didn’t specify what. I figured you’d prefer to tailor your explanation to your tastes. By the look on her face, I think shesuspects it’s at least a bit sexual in nature.” Marcus gave Ru a guilty nudge.

“But it isn’t. This is medical. Why didn’t you tell her the precise nature of your ‘experiment’? You’ll be the one who collects mycontribution—well, not personally,” Ru preferred not to use the anatomical terms at the moment considering his shock, “and sees that it manages to find its way into the correct receptacle. Right?”

“Inject? Oh, goodness. No. You see, humans don’t give off visible signs of heat. Their body temperatures may not even elevate! It happens once a month, in a two-day window, but it can come early or late. Many things can influence it, too. Diet, stress, exercise, weight—”