Chapter 464: Sonya

“Signor Trini has brought his entire life’s savings. But the risk for you remains immense,” Mendoza said, her voice a hurried whisper. “The captain who captured you is a greedy man. He expects to get fifteen hundred Gilt Certificates for you.”

“What are Gilt Certificates?”

“It is our currency here,” Mendoza explained quickly. “Signor Trini has pledged all he has to help you, but his savings fall far short of that sum…”

Marina felt a wave of dizziness, the world threatening to dissolve around her. But Mendoza’s next words were a lifeline. “…The Jesuit fathers, moved by your plight, have also donated several hundred. Signor Trini can now bid up to two thousand Gilt Certificates to secure your freedom. I do not believe anyone else in this hall will go so high.”

With a voice that trembled, Marina expressed her profound gratitude, her eyes welling with tears as she watched Mendoza slip back into the shadows.

In the darkness, Lin Hanlong sat at a small square table to the left of the T-stage, a drink and cigars already laid out before him. Admission tickets had to be reserved in advance, a measure to facilitate the arrangements. He puffed on his cigar, waiting for the auction to begin, surrounded by his old colleagues from the machine works. They had all come straight from dinner, arriving early. On the way, each had sworn he was only there to witness the spectacle, with absolutely no intention of buying a “foreign horse.” Yet here they were, settled into seats near the very front, just one table away from the stage. The prime tables, directly adjacent to the runway, had already been claimed on the BBS by a pack of men driven mad by their own hormones.

Lin Hanlong scanned the room. Seventy or eighty Elders were present—not exactly a sell-out crowd. It seemed most preferred not to publicly display their appetites.

“Old Lin! Old Lin!” A hand clapped him on the shoulder. He turned to see Dongmen Chuiyu, an unlit cigar pinched between his fingers. “Let me borrow your cutter!”

Lin Hanlong grunted in affirmation, passing the cigar cutter across the table. It was a piece of his own handiwork, elegant and light, and a pleasure to use.

“So, Old Lin! Which of these foreign mares has caught your eye?”

Lin Hanlong waved a dismissive hand. “None, none. I’m just here for the show, for the fun of it.” In truth, he was as duplicitous as every other Elder who claimed to be a mere spectator. While browsing the introductions and photographs on the BBS, his attention had been captured by a young woman with blonde hair and blue eyes. It wasn’t just her appearance that intrigued him, but her apparent passion for the natural sciences. Lin Hanlong had little interest in a purely physical exchange. But a meeting of the minds with a beautiful woman? That was another matter entirely.

Dongmen Chuiyu let out a few knowing chuckles, the end of his cigar now neatly clipped. He returned the cutter. “To be honest,” he said, “I’m just here to look, too.”

Lin Hanlong casually picked up the lighter from the table and lit Dongmen’s cigar. He watched him swagger back to his seat in the front row, a wry smile playing on his lips. Just here to look? Tell that to the ghosts.

Before the bidding began, the foreign women were led onto the stage one by one, each guided by the hand of a female cadre. Like the models of a later era, they walked slowly to the front of the stage, where they stood, turning for the audience under a barrage of gazes—greedy, curious, obscene. Then they would retreat behind a screen to await their fate. Of course, they were a far cry from professional models. Dressed in identical white frocks, their hair tied back, they lacked the confident “catwalk” swagger. Most were either timid and hesitant, or walked with a vacant, distant look in their eyes, passively led. Lin Hanlong had heard that in the slave markets of the Middle East, they were displayed naked, to be prodded and examined at will. He was glad that spectacle was not being repeated here. That was a vulgar meat market, pure and simple.

Finally, he saw her—the blonde girl. As she stepped onto the stage, her lively eyes darted about, taking in the scene. She seemed utterly indifferent to her own predicament, as if she were merely a curious observer. A thought stirred in Lin Hanlong’s mind. This one is different.

Someone at the front table stood up, craning his neck to get a better look at the girl’s feet. Dongmen Chuiyu! The bastard had his eyes on her too! Lin Hanlong’s heart sank. It seemed a battle was inevitable tonight.

A bell chimed. A bald, powerfully built man in a well-tailored Western suit and tie strode confidently across the floor and ascended the steps to the auction platform.

It was He Fanghui. After being transferred back to Lingao from Sanya, he had been working in the finance sector. In the old world, his profession had been auctioneering, and he was intimately familiar with the processes of banks, courts, and customs in disposing of bad assets. The pacification wars, the island-wide land survey, and the agricultural tax reforms had resulted in a massive amount of confiscated property requiring disposal, and he had quickly found himself back in his old line of work.

This auction was not only his professional duty but also a matter of “serving the Elders.” It was a responsibility he could not refuse. To mark the occasion, he had even donned the old suit he used to wear at the auction house.

He Fanghui cast an expert eye over the hall, confirming that his spotters were in place. They were all serving maids, tasked with ensuring that every single bid, no matter how subtle, was instantly and accurately relayed to the auctioneer’s podium. He scoffed at the old-world practice of raising numbered paddles, considering it a crude and artless method. For this auction, every seat was numbered. Bids were to be made by hand signals alone, no paddles required.

Among the attendees, besides the interested Elders, were a few native Europeans. He Fanghui recognized some of them but couldn’t fathom why they had been invited. It was, he’d been told, a request from the Intelligence Bureau. Perhaps to display the power and majesty of the Senate?

Whatever the reason, the Executive Committee had approved their presence. He had no time to dwell on it. He raised his small wooden gavel and struck it three times. The hall fell silent.

“Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. Tonight, we offer for your consideration seventeen S-grade Caucasian female slaves. The details have been published on the intranet. Let us begin with the first.”

The first slave was led to the display platform. Two maids unveiled a large board, detailing her name, ethnicity, height, hair and eye color, and a host of other measurements.

“I will start the bidding at two hundred Gilt Certificates,” he announced.

The bids came in a flurry from the floor, a cacophony of offers. The spotters watched every minute gesture: a touch to the collar, a raised finger, the flick of a pen.

“Two hundred and fifty… two hundred and seventy-five… Do I hear three hundred?” He Fanghui’s voice boomed with passion. “Three hundred from the right! Three hundred! Do I hear more…”

Marina watched the auction unfold with a knot of terror in her stomach. The first sale concluded quickly: a seventeen-year-old girl from Persia, sold for four hundred and seventy-five Gilt Certificates.

“It seems Zahra is quite popular here.”

“You know her?”

“We met in the slave market in Basra. We were sold by the same trader. Friends, I suppose,” the blonde girl said.

“You are friends with an infidel?” Marina asked, bewildered.

“First and foremost, we are slaves,” the girl sighed. She gestured with her chin toward two Europeans drinking in the distance. “Those are the Englishmen who bought us in Basra. He’s a major slave trader. Bought two hundred girls in one go! I had no idea there were such wealthy clients here.”

“You must have suffered a great deal.”

“The English treated us well enough. In the hands of the Barbary pirates… that was a living hell.” A shudder ran through the girl, as if she couldn’t bear the memory. “Thankfully, they intended to sell me for a high price, so they didn’t torture me. God be praised! Every slaver who has owned me believed I would fetch a great price.”

Marina couldn’t begin to imagine the horrors the girl must have endured. She shivered, praying for her own deliverance.

One by one, the “foreign horses” were brought out and sold. Lin Hanlong’s thoughts were consumed by the blonde girl, and he paid little attention to the other auctions. He did notice, however, that the bidding for the women with more pronounced Caucasian features was far more intense. The ones with blonde hair and blue eyes were especially coveted. The girl he wanted was one of the last to be presented—a clear sign that the General Office knew her value. She was one of the prize lots, and her price would not be low.

He worried, but also hoped that by the time she came up, the other bidders would have already spent their fortunes on other white women and would leave him be. But Dongmen Chuiyu was clearly determined to have her, and had yet to make a single bid. He knew Dongmen was frugal, and hadn’t spent much on his first maid—he’d used the basic maid allowance and nothing more. Like himself, he likely had a substantial amount of savings.

When it came to ready cash, however, Lin Hanlong had a distinct advantage. He received numerous stipends: a “Technician Grade Allowance,” a “Hazardous Environment Allowance,” a “Heavy Manual Labor Subsidy”… The sum of these was considerable.

The auction proceeded at a brisk pace. Marina observed that the light-haired slaves were indeed more popular, their prices consistently exceeding eight hundred Gilt Certificates. The younger ones with desirable measurements fetched over a thousand. A blonde from Poland, though slightly older, still sold for a handsome eight hundred and fifty. But the Persian slaves, with their brown hair and almond-shaped eyes, were also in high demand, the bidding for them fierce, with none selling for less than six hundred.

In what felt like a blink of an eye, the tenth slave was sold. The eleventh was the blonde girl. As the maids came to lead her to the stage, she smiled at Marina. “You shouldn’t always look so sorrowful.”

“What is your name?” Marina realized with a start that she didn’t even know the girl’s name.

“I am Sonya Lili Chapelle—naturalist of Lisbon. May God protect you!” And with that, she was led away to the stage.