Under a Starless Sky

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 NôvelDrama.Org owns this text.

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.

There came the sound of glass breaking and a man came flying out of a bar. The Centaur galloped off.

Arne put a foot on Orton’s chest, keeping him on the ground. He leaned in, and Arne’s group gathered

around, looking down on him.

“Touch another woman without permission, I will cut your arm off,” Arne said.

“And I, too, will cut something off,” Jerica said.

“She is walking around bare butt; I couldn’t help myself,” Orton said.

“You want to get us killed?” Erico asked.

“We don’t know the rules here,” Arne agreed. “But assume this rule is universal: don’t touch without

verbal invitation.”

“Yes, Captain,” Orton said.

Orton was allowed up.

“Why do they get to have swords and I get frills,” Jerica complained.

“Because you’re newbies.” This came from a child sitting on a beer keg against the side of a tavern.

“Oh, great, the kegs have mouths,” Erico said.

“Your behavior lights you out, as well as the color of your tags,” the boy said. He showed him his palm

crystal. “I am red. Been here before, but also, I am a child, so I am off limits. You can’t touch me.”

“Bet I can kick your ass,” Orton said.

“What is wrong with you?” Shen asked. “He’s a just a boy.”

“A boy who’s about to rob you,” he said. He tapped on the keg, and a dozen teens came out of the

shadows, behind a wall, and even from the roof top. They all had knives.

“How many can you sleep?” Shen asked Jerica.

The boy laughed. He touched the crystal. “Sleeper immunity. Also, if you use magic outside of

designated areas, it sets off alarms. You could lose privileges. Just give us your clothes, and you can

be on your way.”

“Okay,” Shen said. Arne gave him a look that suggested he disagreed. Shen gave him another look

that suggested play along. Their attempt to quickly and silently communicate plan was interrupted.

Orton stepped towards the mouth piece of the group.

“I am not giving these little bastards shit,” Orton said.

“Thought you hated the dress,” Jerica said, pulling Orton back in line so Arne and Shen could handle

the boy. She had understood quicker than Arne.

“It’s all I got,” Orton said.

“Just shut up and give the boys what they want. I am sure Kali isn’t tracking her clothing or us,” Shen

said.

“Kali?” one of the boys asked. “I am out.”

Some of the others boys ran without even saying ‘ditto.’ The first boy was standing there confused

about being un-ceremonially alone.

“Drop your knife, and you can walk away from this, friend,” Shen said.

“Fuck you…” he began, coming forwards.

Shen put him in a joint lock, took the knife, handed it straight to Jerica, and turned his attention back to

the boy.

“I am going to let you go. You’re going to run away. We clear on that part?” Shen asked.

“You can’t use magic,” the kid cried, gasping.

“This is not magic,” Shen said. “Letting go now.”

The boy recovered and backed away. “I don’t care who you are or who owns you. You’re dead. You’re

walking dead.”

“It is ‘dead man walking,’” Shen corrected. “Walking dead is something else…”

The boy ran away. Orton pretended to give chase, loudly going some distance, perhaps to also gather

intel on the end of the street. Erico yelled for him not to wonder off. Meanwhile, Arne was checking

Shen for injuries. Shen revealed himself unharmed.

“You got to see this!” Orton yelled back.

Erico shrugged. They started to walk towards Orton.

“You weren’t really going to have us surrender our clothes, were you?” Arne asked.

“A shirt on the arm minimize damage while you take the knife,” Arne said.

“There is that,” Arne said.

“We have a reputation,” Jerica said.

“I saw. The girls earlier,” Shen said. “They had a shift when they heard we belong to Kali.”

“We can’t depend on that,” Arne said. “Kali is likely to have enemies.”

“You think?” Shen agreed.

The emerged out on to a street and a large square.

“Red light district!” Orton said, pointing.

“Do you have any money on you?” Arne asked.

“Maybe we can make some whoring you out?” Jerica said.

“Anytime,” Orton said.

“That guy over there is looking at your ass,” Arne said.

“Uh? No! Fuck no. I am not whoring myself to some guy,” Orton said.

“To some guy? Does that mean no random guy, but guys are on the table?” Shen asked.

Jerica and Erico laughed.

“No guys!” Orton said, angrily.

“I smell barbecue,” Uffe said.

“Yeah, looks like a whole court yard of food this way…” Erico said.

They moved towards the food. Girls winked and shifted hips invitingly.

“I like this place!” Orton said as they walked the street.

“That invite is for Shen, not you,” Jerica said.

“I might get his leftovers,” Orton said.

“Do you suppose there will be leftovers from a man that consumes giantesses?” Arne asked.

“Yeah, you greedy bastard,” Jerica said playfully.

A man shouted, drawing their attention. A hand came out of the shadow, swooped him up. There was

chanting in the background- coming from unseen bodies. Bic-type lighters flashing as if they were

challenging their peer, and sure enough, the man was swallowed whole. There were cheers and drinks

were passed around, and the party of giants wandered back into the darkness. The table top folks

continued about their business as if nothing had happened.

“The novelty of this place is over,” Erico said.

“Yeah, let’s go back to the carrier,” Shen said.

“Let’s move away from the edge of the table,” Arne said.