Under a Starless Sky novel Chapter 70

Shen and friends were brought out of the cages and brought into an open carry case, each wearing new clothes. The men were all wearing kilts, with formal shirt and jackets. Orton was the least happy. From their group, Jerica was the last to arrive. She was wearing a ballroom dress. Her hair was stylized and tied into a pony tail, adorned with large floppy ribbons. She was angrier than Orton. All the men lost their grievances at the sight of her.

“You look amazing,” Arne said.

“I will fucking kick your ass,” Jerica said.

“Because we like this look?” Shen asked.

“You like girls dressed like inverted flowers?” Jerica asked.

“If I didn’t know you were already de-flowered, I would volunteer now,” Orton said.

She hit him with a fist, sleeping him at the same time.

Their cage was shaken.

“Hey! None of that! Anyone else fights and I will sleep the lot of you for transport,” Kali said.

Xana arrived, dressed for a picnic.

“Oh, what a lovely bunch you’ve gathered,” Xana said, clapping. “And we’re bringing the new ones?” She tapped on the glasses. She could have been winking at anyone, but Shen clearly thought it was for him.

“People want to see them…” Kali was explaining her decisions- it wasn’t something that needed explaining. Shen suddenly wondered if she were autistic.

In the cage, Arne turned to a stranger. “Where are we going?”

“Carnival,” he said. “Some of us will get to fight. Some will perform; either dance, poetry, songs. Some will play or gamble. Some will be whored out. If you’re lucky, you will be allowed to free range through carnival town.”

“I am not liking the sounds of this,” Jerica said.

Traveling by giant meant being carried in the carry case. They were encouraged to sit and buckle. Some stood, holding onto rails. Shen tried to see out of the container. They took a train, with other giantesses. They were all the same, all female- most likely clones- of various ages. There cage was set into a luggage space, next to other cages. From one side of the box, they could see the occupants of the parallel box. From the opposite side, they saw giantesses standing or sitting. Seeing beyond the train car was impossible- it was either dark or blinding light, a glare off a window that suggested movement. Inside the carrying case, there were fifty souls- humans- or human derivatives. Shen was compelled to try and talk to one of the Elves, and approached their group. He asked if they were Vulcan. They didn’t understand his reference, but they did seem to exude a stoic, logical frame of mind.

“Do you mate every seven years?” Shen asked.

“We have a cycle, if that’s what you mean. Women come into heat, and we respond accordingly,” one of the males said.

“Prolong madness can drive a person insane,” one of the female elves said. “That’s one of the problems being around so many humans. Their airborne hormones mess with our biological balance. It decreases our clarity. A female mating with a human can get stuck in heat and go insane. A male mating with a human, would likely fuck himself to death.”

“Hell, just being around giants is fairly arousing,” Shen said.

The Elves seemed sympathetic. “Only pure human stock are affected by the breath of giants. Their hormones do not affect us.”

“But humans do,” Shen said.

“Unfortunately,” he said.

The female elf had her hands behind her back. “We have watched you, little big man. You would be less affected by their spell if you could avoid their touch. They can burn you out. You risk losing your mind.”

“Tell me how to avoid their touch,” Shen said.

“Cooperate with their agenda,” she said.

They arrived. Carnival was essentially a table top country where giantess could display and interact their peers or other pets. ‘Carnival’ was the largest table in the room, but there may have been hundreds of tables- or countries to visit. For the giantesses, this was a mall of table tops and kiosks- a toy collectors dream with real people for their action figures. Mostly, it was just ways of displaying property; some of the giantess genuinely saw this as a way of investing in the health of their ‘pets.’ There were panels that judged quality. Cat walks for naked pets. Catwalks for fashion-shows for pets. Competitions for pets. There were trades. There were sells. Shen locked on to a hospital table where slaves served as medical people. There was evidence for ‘Central Intelligence’ collaboration in repairing or healing people, and may have served as a medical school. There was bidding and gambling on people. There were giantesses walking the game table in bio-armor, identified by being at minimum double the size of the average human. Shen was aware of a giantess wearing a biological male bio suit, engaging females in a lewd way. Most of the ‘tabletop’ giantesses ranged from 12 to 15 feet tall. Shen noticed one that was at least 20 feet tall- and was perhaps a ‘foreman.’ There were bazaars for humans on the table, for the giantesses on the table, and for the giantesses walking the party. There were a variety of ‘playing’ tables, suggesting tiers and levels of games that went beyond just the ‘pets.’ Orbs hovered over the table, some stable, other orbiting people.

Kali’s habitat sat on the outer perimeter of the ‘Carnival’ table, a wall that concealed what was on the other side. The carrier slid in, locked, and doors were opened. Passengers began to disembark.

“We’re just going to march to our death like cattle?” Orton complained.

“Why would they go through all the trouble of dressing us up only to kill us?” Jerica asked.

“Because they’re fucking crazy,” Orton said.

“I am not crazy,” Shen said.

They looked at his friend. He said it so dead pan and wasn’t even looking to see if they got it. Arne was the first to laugh.

“You’re fucking nuts,” Jerica said.

“What about his nuts?” Erico said.

“They’re huge,” Arne said.

“A bit swollen from atypical abuse,” Shen agreed. He didn’t want to discuss it further and so headed out.

Arne pulled him back. “I will lead.”

Their group were last to disembark. Shen was the last off the carrier, as they seemed determined to protect him. As they descended to level, a flock of orbs rushed Shen and his party, flashing lights, and then scurried away. A human at a gate demanded to see their palms before passing them through. For everyone that did, they got crystal glued to their hands. Orton protested. The gatekeeper said. “No difference to me. But if you’re not chipped, you are fair game to be eaten.” Orton offered both hands. “One is enough. Next!” Shen surrendered his hand. She chipped him.

“This gets us into sanctuary?” Shen asked, playfully.

The gatekeeper was confused. “There is no sanctuary.”

“Oh, I love you,” Shen said.

“I am not authorized to reciprocate,” she said.

“Uh?” Shen said.

“Come on, giant fucker,” Jerica said, pulling him along.

The party was as if Carnival-New Orleans met Comicon and AlienCon and held a Halloween party at the same place. Orton slapped a girl’s butt that went by. She and her whole party turned to attack, drawing weapons. Orton was on the ground about to be skewered by the woman before he could even blink.

“Whoa whoa whoa,” Arne said, hands up. “We’re new here. We’re unarmed.”

“This one is about to be unarmed,” she said.

“That’s fair. Spare him, and I will owe you a favor,” Arne said.

“Why should I?!” she said.

“Because he is an idiot and not worth this anger,” Arne said.

She stared at him. “He doesn’t look like a retard.”

A giant in a biotech suit that resembled a Centaur approached. Two arms went akimbo. The other two arms were free to use a bow and arrow; she did not draw it.

“Killing on these streets is restricted,” the Centaur said.

The women sheathed their swords as one. “We were just demonstrating our resolve.”

“Is this true, Kali’s clan?”

The demeanor of the girls were suddenly different, more passive, one perhaps showing fear.

“Yes, Sheriff,” Arne said. “These ladies here were simply schooling my poor, dumb, friend.”

“He doesn’t look like an imbecile,” the Centaur said.

“I am really all kinds of stupid,” Orton said.

“Well, take this elsewhere. There are designated places to demonstrate skill. Kill each other in an arena. Are there any other grievances?” the Centaur asked.

“No,” Arne said.

“No,” the woman said. She and her friends departed.