The girl who fell from the polar star - Chapter 3: The Human Dumpster

Stella left the Stock Company headquarters and stretched her arms toward the bleak overcast sky. Beck came right behind, carrying the contract and the money from Leroy’s first payment. Beck had asked to go free before they left, but she had turned him down, of course, and Leroy had not objected—after all, he needed someone to keep an eye on her.

“Well, that settles it,” she said. “It’s not nearly as bad in hindsight, is it?”

‘Keke! Unbelievable! Yer old man deserves better than that. eh!’

“No, I don’t think he does. He brought this upon himself, and all of us. But anyway, we’re running low on food. Let’s get some groceries on our way back. Oh, and also . . .”

‘Keke! Goin’ on a shoppin’ trip or something?’

“Beck’s not enough. I want more humans. Interesting humans, with entertaining life stories to tell. Yes, that’s exactly what I want. But don’t worry, Beck—you’ll get to be the first to entertain me.”

She gently stroked his back. Cold sweat trickled down his cheek.

“H-Huh . . . ?”

“Once we’re back at the store, I want to hear everything about you. I trust it’ll be entertaining.”

‘Keke! ’E ain’t got what it takes, Master! Not a common thug like ’im!’

“He may be scum, but he’s human scum. I’m sure he’ll do just fine. Won’t you, Beck?”

Stella laughed, and Clever joined in, while Beck watched and reeled on his feet.

The Central District was where some of the finest citizens of Peasbury could be found. But that only meant that they were somewhat better than the rest; it would still be stupid to throw caution to the wind. Pickpockets, thugs, and cutthroat mercenaries prowled around every corner. At the first sign of war, they would take up arms and head to the battlefield, some to fight, some to loot the corpses of the fallen. Mercenaries bought weapons and armor, looters took them off their corpses, blacksmiths repaired them, and merchants sold them anew—and with each turn of the cycle, the death count increased.

The place was heavily guarded, as throngs of nobles and merchants were often visiting, yet Stella knew not to rely on the guards for protection. Human rights were a valuable commodity—one she could not afford.

There were two places in the Central District worth mentioning—the slave market and the arena. Those were the main destinations for any rich visitors looking to spend their money.

“The place looks lovely. It’s like a boiling pot of everything humanity has to offer,” Stella said. “Maybe I should get myself a few slaves.”

‘Slaves? But you already ’ave two slaves, Master!’

“So you consider yourself my slave? That’s well and good, but I’d never have guessed it from the kind of language you use. Sometimes I wonder what’s in that head of yours.”

‘Keke! My ’opes ’n’ dreams!’

“Witty,” she said, giggling. “I like it.”

Stella caressed Clever’s feathered crown, and the bird took joyfully to the air, returning moments later to rest his feathers on Beck’s head. Maybe he liked the softness.

“. . . Uhm, ma’am. What are you going to do with me?” asked Beck.

“Leroy and I agreed that you’re to be my property. I’m sure it’ll be a better life than the one you had. I’ll even give you an allowance. Aren’t you lucky?”

Stella smiled at him, one hand fiddling with her silver hair. Beck nodded back weakly. His expression was conflicted—he knew he had no choice, and there was money in it. He just needed to abandon what was left of his pride.

‘Master, let’s gamble, eh! We’ll make a fortune! Or do you fancy watchin’ scum kill each other in the arena? That oughta be worth a good laugh, eh!’

“That sounds nice. Let’s go, then. As for you, Beck, stay alert, and keep me safe. You really don’t want me to die on you.”

“Y-Yes, ma’am,” he mumbled.

“Where’s your enthusiasm? Should I beat it into you?”

“N-No, ma’am! I’ll do my best!”

“Good, loud and clear. Maybe too loud, though.”

‘Cut ’im some slack, eh?’

Stella considered her options and decided she would start with the arena, where she could bet on the fights or simply watch them for a price. Pitting your own kin against each other, taking pleasure from their painful deaths, and even turning it into a business—only humans would come up with something so creative. She could barely wait to see it.

The Peasbury Arena was a place of slaughter conducted under the approval of Greggs Georgia, the mayor. Some of the combatants fought of their own free will, others had no say in the matter, and yet others were chosen by their gangs to fight in their name. Many a fortune was made in the pits—and just as many corpses. The spectators watched everything unfold from the safety of the stands, making their bets.

When Stella was going inside, the man at the entrance stared at her in disbelief, but only until Beck handed him the money. He must think I’m some noble’s daughter, out for a walk under the guise of a beggar. That was good, but she was being far more inconspicuous than she had expected. Not a single person seemed to recognize her, now or while she had been shopping. Wasn’t she supposed to be their neighbor? It made her lonely to think of it.

From now on I’ll get involved and see humans from up close. I’ll cast my net far and wide and learn all that I can about them. And in fifty years, I’ll die with no regrets.

Stella was tired of watching humans from afar. She wanted to be one of them, to take part in their lives, to feel their emotions—delight and anger, pleasure and sorrow. That would be far more stimulating than the endless boredom and fatigue which had been the only things she could feel in that place. Everything here was fresh and interesting. There was just one problem—Stella’s body didn’t have the energy to keep up with her curiosity. I have to do something about that, and fast.

‘There they are,’ Clever said. ‘Seems pretty even, eh?’

In the pit were two men viciously crossing swords. “Does it go on until one of them dies?” asked Stella.

It was Beck who answered. “Uh—no. Just until someone surrenders or is incapacitated. Well, there’s nothing saying they can’t kill, but here you have to know when to give up and forfeit. Some of them never do, though—the ones that can’t afford to lose.”

At first glance, it seemed like the men were evenly matched. Upon closer inspection, however, Stella noticed that the larger of the two looked pale and drawn. He must be exhausted. The next moment, he lost the fight: his opponent cut his belly open and beheaded him when he went to his knees. The stands roared with cheers and curses.

“I see.”

Stella nodded at the dead man, then looked to her side and saw a thug smiling at her. I swear, they’re more common than pebbles around here. She was getting tired of them. 

He laughed. “You got a keen eye for entertainment, miss. If you want a tour of the neighborhood, I’m your man—and for a little extra, I’ll really make it worth your while!”

“D-Don’t,” Beck said. “You don’t want to get involved, man! You have no idea what she’s—”

“Shut up, this is between me and the—”

“Here, hold this and stay quiet.”

Stella pressed the Magic Crystal into his hands and activated it, knocking him to the ground. Then she tried to kick him out of the way as best she could, but her best wasn’t good enough. “Beck, turn him over. I don’t want to look at his face.”

“Y-Yes, ma’am.”

‘What ’appened to wanting more ’umans, Master? What’s wrong with this one, eh?’

“I’m afraid he’s not to my taste. It’s hard to explain, but I just can’t stomach him. And, well, I thought I’d trust this feeling. It feels like the human thing to do.”

‘Keke! Sounds pretty arbitrary to me, eh!’

“I’m a human now. We’re an arbitrary lot.”

I’ve seen enough of this place for today. Stella kicked the man one more time and walked off briskly.

Beck scurried after her. “U-Uhm—are you sure you want to leave so soon? You won’t get a refund.”

“I want to see everything while I still have the energy. We can always come back here some other day.”

Those two kicks had taken their toll; she was already feeling tired. Thinking back, she realized that she had no memories of ever taking a walk outside. Her parents had always kept her indoors—partly because of her weak constitution, partly to hide her from the debt collectors. But now things had changed, and she had to get used to walking.

“Is this the place?”

“Yes, ma’am. They gather them around these parts, and this is where they round them up for sale.”

“And they call it ‘the Dumpster’?” Stella asked, giggling. “How fitting.”

‘Those ’umans got some sense, eh?’

In the slave market of Peasbury, not all slaves were the same. The fighters and craftsmen and scholars were more valuable and treated with relative decency, but the slaves on the other end of the spectrum were shoved into wooden cages by the dozen and treated worse than stray dogs. War was everywhere these days; there was no lack of orphans, widows, and highborn captives, and they all washed up in places like this. Whether they would find a good master or not, only the heavens could tell.

There were two ways to buy a slave here: through the auction or directly from the slavers. The most desirable slaves—beautiful young women, for example—were auctioned and sold to the highest bidder for exorbitant prices.

Stella watched the slaves with great curiosity. That drew suspicion from the guards, but only until they saw Beck. It was common for foolish nobles and their offspring to steal away from their mansions and visit the market with a bodyguard. She looked nothing like a noble, to be sure—but that could be just a disguise.

“Selling your own species as merchandise . . . I wonder who came up with that.”

‘I dunno, eh. God, most like!’

“Not a bad guess, but there are no gods. Or were there? What’s a god anyway?”

‘God is God, eh!’

Are you even trying to make sense? She didn’t remember Clever being this stupid, or having these weird speech mannerisms. Had she really put up with this nonsense for so long? And if so, had that added to her boredom or detracted from it? She didn’t know, but one thing was certain: this bird was, indeed, the real Clever.

“Were you always this stupid?”

‘Rude! Where’d that come from, eh?’

“I suppose I’ve just lived for too long and lost all my restraint.”

‘Keke! Yeah, no kiddin’! Kekeke!’

“You’re one to laugh.”

‘What else can I do, eh?’

“Anyway,” she said, turning to Beck, “would I be in one of those cages now if I hadn’t recovered my memories? Because realistically, I can’t think of anything else.”

“Uhm . . . Y-Yes. That was our way of doing things. First we robbed them blind, then we sold them off to the slavers. Or just got rid of them.” His nervous manner suggested he was anticipating another scolding.

“And how much would you have gotten for me?”

“Uhm, for a brat—sorry, I meant kid—for a skinny kid like you . . . best-case scenario, ten silver coins. Since they need to feed you and all.”

Stella looked around her. Indeed, ten silver coins seemed to be the average price for the younger slaves, though the more comely ones were more expensive. And, unsurprisingly, so were the girls.

“Ten silver coins? That’s not a lot, huh.”

“Like I said, that’s the best-case scenario. Ma’am, no offense, but you’re not exactly the picture of health. Food doesn’t come cheap, and if you die before they can sell you there’s no return.”

“I appreciate the honesty,” she said, giggling. “But, well, maybe being locked up in a cage wouldn’t be all bad. It could give me a new perspective on life.”

‘Didn’t take ya for a pervert, eh?’

“Is that so weird? It could be a lesson on human sorrow. Imagine me, shaking and crying like a sad little thing.”

‘Keke! Sorrow? Count me out, I’ve ’ad enough of yer “sorrow” penned in that bird’ouse! ’Ow could they do that to me, eh? I’m a Sacred Beast, for cryin’ out loud!’

Stella didn’t remember any birdhouses, and the Clever she remembered was far too large for one anyway. Unless . . . Was that place just a big birdhouse? Stella had always seen it as a grave, and she still thought that was the best word for it. She casually wondered what the gravekeeper was doing now. Well, it doesn’t matter. I’m never going back there. “Do you think the place still exists?”

‘Who cares, eh? That place is done for.’

“I envy that attitude. Is that the secret of longevity?”

Clever clicked his beak in annoyance.

Stella turned to look at the cages. There were slaves of all ages, male and female, but all had the same dead look in their eyes. They lived day after day with no real purpose, like corpses standing out of habit. They didn’t interest her. They’re all the same. You hear one, you hear them all. One Beck, too, was enough.

“Tell me, Beck. What can you do?” she asked, with no expectations.

“Huh? What do you mean?”

“Sorry, I should have been more specific. What are you good at?”

“Uhm—I’m a decent debt collector, I think? I also used to do rounds around our turf.”

“Were you any good at it?”

He hesitated. “I like to think that I was, but I was still in a lower position at the company, so . . .”

“Uh-huh.”

A “decent debt collector” wouldn’t have failed to collect Stella’s debt. It was true that she had interfered, but he had failed long before that, the moment he drove Stella’s parents to suicide. And his “rounds”? For a company like his, that hardly took any skill.

“Can you do housework? Can you deal with customers? Can you work with ledgers?”

“I eat at the tavern. All my laundry and stuff is done by our slaves at the company. Never worked with customers or ledgers. Ma’am.”

“Uh-huh.”

She’d heard enough. He was the most common kind of thug—with no skills of his own, he used his company as a weapon to prey on the weak, backing down the moment he lost that edge. I won’t let him do my housework, she thought, but he might be a decent errand boy and part-time scarecrow for the store.

She wondered if she needed him at all; however, he was still her very first possession. For humans, such things hold sentimental value. She could hardly do something more human than acknowledge his worthlessness and keep him around anyway.

“U-Uhm? Ma’am?”

“So, how many do I need?”

“H-How many what? Coins?”

“How many people will I need to run the store, to talk with me and keep me entertained, and to take care of all the housework?” she said. “To maintain a healthy lifestyle, I’ll need at least five hours of sleep every night—quite a lot of time, still, but it’s a compromise—and also daily naps. So I’d rather work as little as possible.”

‘You lazy, lazy Master! At least cook yer own food, eh!’

“Oh, hush. Life is short. If I intend to make my next fifty-odd years mean something, I’ll need to use my time wisely. I’ll start by buying my way out of common chores. Time is money, as they say—and how right they are.” She waved her hands.

From now on, Stella would spend every day training her body, observing the people around her, and listening to their stories. Once she’d had enough of this place, she would go somewhere else and do it all over again. Somewhere along the way she would meet a man, take his seed, and give birth to a child. Humans, after all, are prized for their ability to leave a legacy in the form of living, breathing copies of themselves.

“Uhm . . . Four, maybe five people? I think . . .”

Stella frowned. “You think? Let’s hear your logic, then.”

“I—I don’t know, ma’am. Just a guess.”

“Don’t waste my time with your guesses. Though, well, I suppose you can’t help it. You’re just being yourself, aren’t you? You’re Beck, through and through. You do such a good job of it!”

‘Master, don’t call ’im the B-word, tha’s rude! ’Ey there, buddy. Stay strong, eh?’

“U-Uh . . . Thanks . . . ?”

Ignoring Beck’s confusion, Stella approached one of the cages on a whim and took a good look at the merchandise. “I’ll have this woman. She looks like she knows how to keep a house in order.”

Stella pointed at a worn middle-aged woman with white streaks in her matted black hair that made her look older than her years. The wooden tag hanging from her neck identified her as “Marie,” and she was quite affordable.

“. . . Huh?”

“I’m talking to you, Marie. I’m purchasing you to work for me at Stella’s General Store. You’ll deal with my customers and do the housework.” Stella giggled. “Look at me, a little girl saying she’s ‘purchasing someone.’ It’s making me feel something, but what is it?”

‘Keke! Feelin’ thrilled, I bet, eh?’

“I’ve got mixed feelings. Part thrilled, part . . . sad? I bet you can see both on my face, can’t you?”

‘You sure? I don’t see it. You look excited to me, eh!’

“Of course I’m sure. Well, anyway, I want two more to go with the lady. Not sure who yet, but I’ll know them when I see them. I want to rely more on my gut.”

Stella thought she would look next for a strong man to take care of the manual labor, but looking around, there were no men of working age that she could use. Those were always in high demand, apparently. There were only boys left, and not the pretty ones—who were apparently bought for special purposes—but the poorly dressed kind that looked like miniature versions of Beck and, like him, were unlikely to have any meaningful skills. She could train them, of course, but right now she’d rather have someone she could use, or at least someone interesting.

“I guess I’ll have to put that off for now. These ‘men’ are useless. They’re all Becks in their own right.”

‘One’s enough, eh? And if we need more, they’re lyin’ around all over the place for free. Why pay, eh!’

“Why indeed.”

“I’m right here, you know . . .” Beck’s shoulders sagged.

“Still, I don’t want to leave before I find more people for the store.”

She was barely done speaking when a ragged young boy spit on her. She turned to look and saw a triumphant smirk on his face. “Look at the little princess, picking her new puppies! Be careful, this one bites!”

“T-That’s my customer, you little rat! You’ll regret this!” yelled the slaver.

“Go to hell, the lot of you! Rogues!”

The boy’s hair was an unkempt blond tangle, and dust covered him from head to toe. The wooden tag on his neck read “Rye.” He was worth ten silver coins. At first glance Rye was not much different from his other cagemates, but Stella regarded his unyielding eyes with utmost interest. This one is not going to disappoint.

Wiping the spit with a sleeve, she pointed at him. “I want that one.”

“A-As you wish,” the slaver said. “Please forgive me, miss. I’ll compensate you for his insolence. And I’ll kill the brat at once! No—I’ll break his arms and legs and throw him in the sewers!”

“You’d be doing me a favor, you filthy pig!”

“No, you won’t,” Stella said to the slaver. “I’m taking him off your hands. Him and Marie, the woman in that other cage.” She giggled. “This feels so wrong. But why am I getting excited?”

‘I’m tellin’ ya, yer just a pervert!’ Clever said from above.

The slaver started at the hoarse voice. “Who said that?” He searched his surroundings.

“Who said what? Go on, let’s close the deal.”

“Right. Are you sure about these two, though? They’re just dead stock. Believe me, miss, I can get you much better than that.”

“I want them. Is there a problem?”

“N-No, of course not. Then let me give you a discount so we can forget this little incident. What do you say to this?” He showed her a number.

It was a pittance—the lives of the woman and the boy together were worth less than a single gem. Stella nodded and snapped her fingers. Beck stepped forward to pay the sum. In the half day they had been together, she had managed to turn him into an obedient little puppy. His training is coming along well.

“Glad to do business!” The slaver gave her a wide grin. “Please come again anytime. I’ll make sure to have a new selection ready. I can fix you up with some lively young boys. You’re not at that age yet, I know—but it’s never too early to start getting them ready for it!”

“I’ll know who to call. Now, everyone, it’s time we headed to the store. I’ve got a headache, which means the coffee is starting to wear off. I wonder why I still feel this, even in a new body.”

‘Don’t ask me, eh! Coffee was yer thing, nobody else touched it!’

“Your loss. It was the only relic that was of any use. It helped me deal with the boredom.”

Pressing her fingers to her temples, Stella started for home with a sigh. Marie, Rye, and Beck came behind—the first trembling, the second willfully, and the third with dead, blank eyes.

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