"What the fuck?"
Rat's eyes jumped open. She focused on the open door and the woman standing in front of it. The woman was Rat’s opposite, three times her size with plump, swarthy skin and long long black hair tied back in a braid.
Her dark eyes glowered and Rat backed into the corner, crouching, a growl already in the back of her throat, fingers and teeth bared, ready to claw the woman’s eyes out if she made a single move. Rat had only a few seconds to analyze the situation and stop it from escalating to something lethal. Apologize or fight? Run or defend? Wait or launch a surprise? Rat’s lip curled as she analyzed the plentiful weaknesses in the woman’s scant clothes; a light top with only straps keeping it on and some rugged shorts.
Then the events of the prior day settled over her and she slowed down her brain and heart. She had to see this woman for what she was, not the threat she could be. The woman’s eyebrows had raised high and her lips had twisted from open-mouthed shock to a wry smile. Her shoulders were relaxed, really they’d never even been tense, and while her exclamation had been loud, it hadn’t been mean or even angry.
Rat slapped the side of her face, craving a better tactile response. This woman must live here. Rat had shot herself in the foot, lashing out so blindly. If this woman, whoever she was, understood Rat’s background or life, she might excuse Rat’s initial instinct of violence. She might understand why a stranger barging in on Rat sleeping could be a death sentence.
But she didn’t know Rat. She just knew that she entered her room to find Rat hissing and snarling and ready to kill. Rat would definitely pay for this.
“Good lord, this is what I have to deal with, huh?” The woman bustled about the room and went straight to the drawer. “Untouched and all! You like that bloody scrap you have on?” She made a clicking noise with her tongue as she moved to the bed. Rat followed her with her eyes. “And of course, bedsheets untouched too. You really slept on that ground all night?”
“I wasn’t gonna-” Rat slapped her cheek harder now. Every word the woman said made sense but all strung together it was like another language. Rat felt… scolded. “It’s not… No, I was just put in here.”
The two women stared off at each other, puzzlement written on both faces.
“Answer the question.” The woman’s eyes weren’t hard or angry enough, and Rat squirmed, not liking the edge of softness.
“I didn’t want to sleep on your bed.”
“Child.” The word was so heavy with a sigh that Rat looked down at her bare feet, like the woman’s voice itself pushed her head down. “This is not my room. This is a spare room, for visitors. Like you.”
“And for whoever-” Rat broke off. There was this little part of her brain that was toying with the idea that they’d wanted to see if she’d sleep on the bed. Maybe it was a test. Or maybe it was a bribe. They were scared of her and needed to be sure that she wouldn’t flaunt her new station, sleep in a bed clearly meant for someone important, as nice as it was. Once they saw that she knew her place, they’d give this room back to… Rat shook her head. This didn’t make enough sense.
The woman spoke slowly. “This bed was meant for you.” It was beyond how someone would speak to a child. It was almost as if she didn’t think Rat knew imperial. “These clothes, in this drawer? Ach.” She threw her arms up, a heavy movement that managed to convey no threat or ill will. “They said you were feral but I did not expect this. Aye. You didn’t even clean yourself.”
“Couldn’t find water,” Rat mumbled.
“Did they not show you the restroom?”
Didn’t they know she was a slave?
“You’re allowed to go there, you know that.”
It clicked. They didn’t care. They didn’t care because they didn’t know. Once they realized how filthy and gross slaves were, it would all click in place for them but right now, they didn’t know. They didn’t know that slaves were too disgusting to be allowed nice things. How could they? They were so ignorant, they didn’t even know what slaves were.
Head still down, Rat watched the woman rustle through the drawer, muttering under her breath. Did Rat tell them? Explain why, as a slave, even potentially a free one, she wasn’t fit to use these things? Should she give them the rundown of the genetic inferiority of slaves or did she pretend and hope they never found out? The second option, lying, terrified her, but the first made her stomach sink with dread. For just a few hours, these people didn’t look down on Rat the way the slavers did. Every new way they regarded her, every smile or wave, it was all new and uncomfortable. Coming clean and having them treat her how a slave deserved might be more familiar. Safer. But for once, safer didn’t feel better. The idea of going the safe route gave Rat a stomachache.
The woman turned back to the dresser, eying between Rat and the clothes in it. “Mmm, Wyane said predatory and fiercely intelligent. We’ll see. Here.”
Two pieces of cloth flapped into Rat’s face. Both the shirt and the shorts were a brownish tan, rougher than the scraps of pants and shirt from the dumpster that she’d gotten, but cleaner and without tears. Rat began to pull off the remains of her clothes, eying the woman closely.
“What! No, child, Jesus.”
Rat froze, new shirt half over her head. “What. Can I or can’t I? I’m willing to wallow in filth but you gotta make up your fucking mind.”
“You’re covered in blood and… shower first. You’ll just get your new clothes dirty.” The woman pointed out the door.
She wanted Rat to shower to protect her new clothes? This woman was a riddle and Rat hated riddles. Some of the slaves would tell them to each other to pass time. They were questions designed to have impossible answers. Not a good time.
Rat pulled the shirt off again. “Alright. Shower.” Cleaning herself to make the clothes less dirty, that was a good one. Rat was now officially too gross for nice clothes and she laughed a bit at the idea.
“You know how to shower, right?” The woman was giving Rat a look, one she was used to: disdain, annoyance, irritation.
Rat’s muscles relaxed as she fully stood up. “Yeah yeah, stand underwater as long as you can.” Rat would be lying if she said she was looking forward to the prospect. Cold and wet was the worst combo and it was gonna make her clothes soggier and grosser than dried blood and gunk ever could have.
“And soap, right?”
“Soap?”
The woman just stared at Rat and Rat was starting to get a little defensive. This place, this Africa place, was completely new. To assume that Rat knew all of their customs and traditions was crazy.
“Look, lady, we showered to get rid of dangerous chemicals. Maybe if there was sickness. We didn’t shower to keep our clothes clean, we didn’t have all these fancy rituals, we didn’t have soap-”
“You didn’t have soap?”
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“I don’t fucking know,” Rat said. “Maybe it went by another name back home.”
“Soap? A bar or liquid that you rubbed on yourself and made bubbles?”
Rat considered this for less than a second. “No, nothing like that. Sounds messy and dangerous.” Bubbles signified chemical impurity. If your water frothed or bubbled, you either had to dump it and go thirsty or drink it and risk sickness.
“Alright. Alright, we’re gonna do this together.”
“Look, lady-”
“Eileen. Eileenagate. And no more protests. You’re going to be scrubbed til you glow and that’s final.”
Well, that wasn’t terrifying or anything. A sweat broke out as the woman grabbed Rat’s arm with one big hand and grabbed her clothes with the other. The prospect of glowing, frothing water burning her skin made her shiver. She grit her teeth. She’d survived acid rain before so whatever this was, it couldn’t be that bad. But then a flash of the gooey pile of bodies slowly disintegrated punctured Rat’s shaky self-assurance and her stomach churned and gurgled. Maybe this woman meant her no harm, but this was still going to hurt.
---
“Let me know if the temperature is uncomfortable.”
Comfort and showers rarely went hand in hand, so Rat was almost curious. She stood naked in a large room with faucets mounted high up on the walls. The tiled floor was slippery under her feet and no matter how much her toes curled, they couldn’t find traction.
“When you say comfortable-”
With a screech and hiss, water suddenly dumped from the faucet directly above her. Rat had been bracing for the inevitable freezing deluge but the water wasn’t even close to cold. Rat screamed as hot water pelted her body, coating her face, her lips, into her eyes and ears. She shut her lids but couldn’t breathe as water streamed over her nose and mouth.
The faucet screeched again, a high metal shriek and the water began to cool.
“Here, child, step out from under the water.”
Rat found Eileenagate’s hand on her shoulder, pulling her out from under the shower so that the water only landed on her back. A cloth rubbed over her face until Rat could breathe and see again. Rat blinked waterlogged eyes, wiping the droplets off her eyelids.
“You’re shaking,” Eileenagate said. She held the sides of Rat’s shoulders as Rat looked down at the floor, wishing the water would stop. “Hey, look at me.” Eileenagate’s voice was soft and just non-threatening enough that Rat looked up at her. The woman reached a hand under the water as if somehow touching the water could replicate the surprise waterboarding Rat just experienced. “Is this too cold for you?”
Rat coughed to clear her throat, knees still knocking together. “You scalded my face and you’re worried about it being cold? Do you have any idea how to work that thing?” The shower was controlled by a single knob but it had apparently stymied Eileenagate.
Eileenagate’s eyes rolled back in her head. “You need to watch your tongue,” she said, the softness gone. Then she sighed. “Alright, let me.”
Rat stood under the water, letting it roll down her back, as Eileenagate stripped down to just small, white shorts. There wasn’t any appropriate response to this other than slack-jawed confusion. Then Eileenagate stepped under the water, joining Rat. This was new. Usually when people doused you, regardless of whether it was to hurt or help, they didn’t join.
Eileenagate fiddled with the knob for another moment or two, taking the water on her own face, eyes closed for a moment in bliss.
“Mmm, how’s that, huh?” Eileenagate’s question was a bit of a challenge.
Rat wouldn’t say, but it was actually kinda nice. She’d adjusted to the feeling of constant rain. The hot water rushed over and down and off her body, taking with it any gore or blood that hadn’t made it back into her body. They floated in little rivers before whisking away down a hole in the ground.
“We’re wasting warm water.” Rat barely felt the words leave her mouth as she stared at the streams, transfixed.
Eileenagate laughed and Rat looked back up at her. The big woman rolled her neck, letting the water dampen her long braid. “So conscientious. Don’t worry. It goes back into the reclaimer. And with the panels that take in the desert’s sun, we’re not often wanting for power. There is no waste. How’s the temperature?”
Nice. It was nice. Rat stretched and flexed her muscles as they seemed to release under the heat. Usually, warmth was uncomfortable. It coated her with sweat and salt, but now the water ran down her body and away before it could stick to her. Her skin prickled and burned under the water. She reached a hesitant hand up to her arms and shoulders, scratching them. Like pure, fresh air after weeks of stifling dust, the blissful sensation raked across her skin. She scratched more, harder, until her already pink skin was red.
“Hey hey hey, enough of that.” Eileenagate caught Rat’s wrists.
“Don’t-” Rat pulled her hands away. “I need this.”
Eileenagate watched, face twisted in skepticism as Rat continued to tear at her flesh for another minute. The woman's borderline shock was a balm to Rat’s eyes, so tired of people looking at her like she was the stupid one. Clearly this lady couldn’t see why, after days of being denied the sensory release that she craved, Rat was ecstatic to exercise some controlled pain across her body. Well, Rat wasn’t going to indulge her ignorance. The need for self-inflicted pain wasn’t something this woman understood.
Finally, Rat had had enough and stepped out from under the water, looking for her clothes. A hand snatched her wrist from behind her and Rat slipped, almost falling
“Ack, fuck, stop,” Rat snarled, struggling back to her feet.
“Ah ah ah, not yet young lady.” Eileenagate pulled Rat back under the water and Rat’s momentary tension melted away for about two seconds. “Soap, remember?”
Rat’s muscles forgot the relaxation they’d enjoyed under the stream as they bunched into tight knots.
“I don’t know what you’re so scared of.” Eileenagate was rubbing a bar onto a cloth. “I know you don’t have a whit of reason to trust me, but I’ve gotten you this far and it hasn’t been too bad.” She was quiet for a moment before adding “Has it, Rat?”
Rat suppressed her first instinct, a rigid headshake and defiant glare. “S’been alright.”
“Alright? Well, I’m calling that praise.” She put the bar on a ledge and held out the rag. “Now stand still.”
The cloth wasn’t the harsh scrub Rat had expected. The bristly texture of the cloth wasn’t bad at all, but it was coated in something slimy that Rat didn’t like much at all. As Eileenagate began to rub it back and forth on Rat’s body, the frothing started up, but shockingly, it didn’t burn in the slightest. There was a stingy tingle as it brushed over her raw red skin but otherwise, it was a totally new sensation. And, much like the blood on her body, the slime and bubbles soon washed down the drain.
Eileenagate spared no part of Rat’s body, however, and when she targeted the bottoms of Rat’s feet, Rat twitched and spasmed, uncontrollably. Another foreign sensation but much more dramatic than the soap. It was both unpleasant and euphoria-inducing, and forced a high laugh from her lips.
“What is that?” Rat said, twisting and pulling away, before falling in a heap on the ground. “It’s poisoning me. You’re poisoning me!” The hysteria that Rat should be feeling didn’t quite trigger though. Something about Eileenagate’s heavy sigh and smile made it hard for Rat to truly believe she’d cause her harm.
“It’s tickling you. Your feet must be sensitive.” She placed a hand on her hip, regarding Rat with a perplexed shake of her head. “Have you never been… What rock have you lived under, child?”
Rat sat on the floor of the shower, debating resisting further. The feeling, the tickling, elicited a horrible, uncontrollable reaction across Rat’s body. Yet, like some kind of addictive drug, Rat wanted more of it.
She sighed, crossing her arms. “If you’re gonna do that again, do it while I’m down.”
Eileenagate rubbed her eyes but obliged the request. “You’re going to have to learn to wash yourself, you know that?” She crouched down and finished rubbing Rat’s feet while Rat concentrated her will power to prevent kicking her. “Thank God you’re not as sensitive as others. Alright now turn your back to the shower and lean your head back.”
Rat turned so that the water poured down her scalp. It felt nice until more slimy ooze was poured onto her head.
“Nope nope nope nope.” Rat tried to pull away but Eileenagate’s hands were already firmly on her.
“Do you trust me?”
No, no, why would she? This woman had stripped her naked and waterboarded her.
...but at all times, it had felt nice. It had felt nice and soothed Rat’s muscles and even now her skin breathed in a way in never had before. Trusting was dangerous but if there was someone to trust…
Rat put her head back and let Eileenagate work her magic. This part did hurt. Pulling and tugging and yanking. It was somehow worse than when the Drone had held her suspended by her hair. Maybe it was because this lasted much longer.
“Jesus fuck lady,” Rat snarled as the woman’s hands pulled at Rat’s scalp.
“It’s either this or a haircut,” Eileenagate muttered. “But this will do for now.”
Then she got off and fumbled with the knob. With a screech, the water stopped.
Rat sat, sodden and cold on the ground, wishing for the first time in her life that the shower hadn’t ended.