Sedition (12 page)

“That’s… not much,” Abriel says, looking at me suspiciously.

It’s a drop in the bucket for me, but for him to realize it’s low suggests something wrong.

I force a smile. “He’s had some rather rough treatment in the past,” I explain. “I got him at a bargain, and I don’t want to make a profit off of him. He’s been a loyal slave, a hard worker. I hate to let him go.”

“That’s all you paid for him?” Abriel asks, shocked.

“It’s been a while,” I try to backtrack. “I don’t quite recall the figures. And he’s done a lot of work for me in the meantime. Really, he should be with you.”

Abriel smiles, pleased that he’s making out good on the deal. I hear the ding from my tablet, indicating that Sascha has flashed some data over, and I wonder if I’ll ever hear that particular sound again. I’m sure he’ll move on, enjoy his family, and forget about me.

I draw up some transfer papers and hand them to Abriel to sign. We finish and shake hands as Sascha returns, overstuffed suitcases in hand.

“That settles it,” I say, like this is just another business transaction. “Sascha belongs to you now. It was a pleasure to do business with you.”

“Same to you,” Abriel agrees. “Come on Sascha, let’s go. If we make good time, we should be able to get through the city before rush hour.”

Sascha hasn’t said a word. He glances between me and Abriel, who looks utterly thrilled. He looks confused, but I’m sure he’ll be fine. He just needs to let me go.

“Thank you, sir,” he finally says. He looks crushed, but I want him to leave. I want to do something, to tell him goodbye, to kiss him one last time, to grab him and refuse to let him go. But I can’t. When he doesn’t make a move, I assume it’s the right decision.

I nod. “I wish you the best, Sascha.”

I stand there and watch as Abriel pulls him out the door, full of excitement. I think Sascha should feel that way, too, but he has always been reserved. He looks back at me, and I can’t stand the look of rejection on his face, so I close the door and lock it tightly behind me. The house seems too big now that I’m alone.

It seems no smaller in the next few days. I glance at Sascha’s room, see the clothes he’s left scattered about. Some remain in my room as well, and I can’t bring myself to take them out. It’s stupid, moping over a slave, but he had become so much more to me. I struggle to complete the massive workload I have now that he’s gone; not only am I left with all of the work from my day job and the research, but everything I do reminds me of Sascha.

I think about contacting him, but I don’t. It’s better to have a clean break. He wouldn’t want some clingy master harassing him. I light up when I hear the sound of my tablet announcing a message from him again, but it’s only work information he hadn’t finished before he left. Nothing else accompanies it, not so much as a casual greeting. He must have moved on already. If he could do so that quickly, it must have been for the best. I try to convince myself that he’s happy, happier than he ever was with me.

Oliver calls me a few days after I sell Sascha, only confirming my belief that I did the right thing.

“Cash, my boy, are you ever going to let me play with your pretty pet?” he asks, not even bothering to say hello, first. “You don’t want word getting around the professional circle that you’re greedy, now, do you?”

“I would,” I tell him, too despondent to even gloat. “But I sold him.”

“What?” Oliver demands. The annoyance is clear in his voice. I’ve offended him.

“His brother hunted him down and made me an excellent offer,” I force myself to lie. “I can buy myself a real pretty one, now. Not all scarred up, not so damn mouthy. I’m thinking of getting a fresh one, one of the premiere ones from the re-education centers.”

“Well, isn’t that convenient,” my former mentor pouts. “Planning on keeping the new one all to yourself, too?”

“He was just another slave, Oliver,” I force myself to say, trying to believe it. “You go through new ones every few months. And of course I’ll let you borrow the new one—just as soon as I acquire one.”

“I could find a good one for you,” he offers. “I have a few more connections left than you do. Or have you reconnected with more than just me?”

Will I be stuck partnering with him now, instead of Sascha? I reject the thought. “I’ve re-established a few connections,” I reveal. “And I’ve made a lot of new ones. The playing field has changed in the last decade. I like the new blood.”

“Always trying to show up your mommy, aren’t you?” Oliver taunts.

“She’s not my mother anymore,” I snap. Oliver always has the ability to make me feel like a wayward child. “Besides, you’re not working with her anymore, either. You got a little too close to what she was working with, and you were gone, too, just not as bad as I was. Kristine Miller’s reign of the re-education centers needs to come to an end.”

“While I agree with that, can’t you find some other wealthy person to fund you?” Oliver asks. “What do I bring? I washed my hands of the re-education centers when I washed my hands of your mother. I’m doing well with my medical research.”

“You’re connected, and you’re not afraid of her,” I admit. Oliver was one of the few people who had never been too afraid of my mother. “You’ve made it quite clear that you want to see her fail, and your current projects aren’t doing that. Work with me, and you can be part of the new re-education system that destroys her.”

“Ah, yes,” Oliver says, cool and evasive. “Your little research project. You really think it will work, this time. But why do you think I’d be so eager to join?”

“Because we have the same goals,” I admit. I hate being on the same side as this monster. “We both win with this. I get my research funding; when it goes through, you get first dibs at restructuring the medical research. You’ve said it yourself; that’s where the money lies, and that’s where your interests lie.”

“
If
it goes through, Cashi,” he reminds me. “Which is a big if. I liked the deal better when there was something to sweeten it.”

I’m glad I let Sascha go. The things Oliver would do to him… “You can get whores by the dozen,” I remind him. “Sascha was nothing special.”

“If that was true, I think you would have found time to let me sample him before letting his brother rescue him,” Oliver reminds me. He’s clearly onto my game, and he’s not happy about it. “I have no interest in doing business with someone who wastes his time coddling slaves instead of focusing on what’s important. One thing about your mother, she always had her priorities in order. You could have learned that lesson from her.”

“Oliver, I saw a good sales opportunity and I took it,” I insist, knowing I’m lying as much as he does. “I’ll make it up to you when we partner.”

“If it was just about money, I’d partner with your mother again,” Oliver says casually, as if it’s not a threat.

“You’d do that just to spite me?” I ask, in disbelief. “You hate her.”

“Well, I wouldn’t partner with her, but she’d pay dearly for what I know about your project,” Oliver comments. “I don’t appreciate having to beg for what I want. I’ve tolerated your reluctance long enough because I was fond of you once, and I still believe you have great ideas. But cross me again and I’ll make the week you spent in the re-education center as a boy look like a trip to a theme park.”

I shudder, recalling the torture he supervised at my mother’s orders. He viciously exploited everything I was afraid of back then, and he’s doing his best to do it again. But I’m not afraid of him anymore; I want to use him. I need him on my side. “I will be the best partner for you. We have the same goals. Now that the slave is out of the way, I can focus on business. You will have my complete loyalty.”

“I’ll think about it,” Oliver tells me. “Let me know if you do get someone special.”

He hangs up, leaving me even more frustrated. The feeling only increases when my mother coms me the following day, and I have no doubts that the two are connected. Oliver and my mother aren’t on good terms, but they move in the same business and social circles, as do I. I wish I had moved out of town years ago, but the best slave industry connections are here.

“I hear you sold your slave,” my mother starts off. “If you’re in the market for a new one, I’m sure one my centers could arrange something. Your birthday’s coming up; well, your old one is. Did we make the new one the same?”

“You didn’t com me to offer to buy me a birthday present,” I snap. Those sorts of motherly gestures stopped when she disowned and disinherited me. “What do you want?”

“I wanted to remind you of our agreement,” she states, her tone going from taunting to cold. At least this is honest. “I hear you’re networking in my circles.”

“And I hear you’re getting old and irrelevant,” I retort. I’ve been careful. Nothing I’ve done in public has been forbidden by any of our agreements. Everything has been hidden, except from me, Sascha, and Oliver.

“I’d stay away from Oliver Torenze if I was you,” she cautions. “He’ll turn on you, same as he did on me.”

“Funny,” I reply. “I could have given him the same advice regarding you.”

“Just stick to your little financial game, Cashiel,” she warns. “I will not have my name associated with scandal again!”

“We don’t share a name anymore, remember?” I snap at her.

“Just watch out, or you and your little whore will be in for a surprise.”

“My little whore is irrelevant,” I retort. “Remember? I sold him.”

“There will be more slaves, Cashiel,” she warns. “There always is, with you. And their actions reflect on you. It would be quite a pity if someone had to come investigate the mansion I paid for, wouldn’t it? A formal investigation, not just a social visit. Could you imagine a team of trained investigators, searching your home, searching whichever new slave you have by then? What sorts of secrets do you think we could dig up if we obtained a full, legal warrant to everything you’ve ever cared about?”

I seethe, wondering if I will ever get out from under her thumb. She’s already intruded on my house, terrified my slave, poked and pried and prodded into my life. If it hadn’t been for Sascha, she would have found out far more than she ever needed to, enough to get me into legal trouble again. I don’t know why I don’t just hang up on her, but defying her so blatantly has never worked out well. “If you’re done talking about the hypothetical future, I have work to do.”

“Then, by all means, get to it.”

She hangs up on me, and I spend the rest of the night double- and triple-checking the security of everything I’m working on. I know it’s tight, utterly inaccessible from anywhere other than this house. I just hope it’s enough. Sascha is far safer with his brother.

Chapter 11
Found

When Abriel pulls me out the door, I’m too stunned to do much of anything else but follow him. I don’t know if I’d ever take my eyes off of Cash, except he shuts the door as we exit, and I hear it lock behind us, locking away that part of my life. Somehow, the bags make it into the trunk of Abriel’s hov-car, and once my hands are free, he captures me in a hug, the likes of which I haven’t felt since the day of the Assessment. I panic a bit at first, but I relax quickly, letting him hug me and tell me how worried he was and all that sort of reunion shit. Finally, he lets me go, and I make it into the seat of the hov-car, and we’re driving.

“So, uh, it’s been a long time.”

Abriel has never been much of a conversationalist; that much hasn’t changed.

“Yeah.” I used to guide all the conversations, but I
have
changed. I haven’t guided anything but a cock into my ass in years, and it’s not like riding a bicycle. I don’t remember how, and I certainly don’t want to figure it out again with my brother. I stare at the part in his hair instead, wishing it was more even. He never parted it evenly, and it always annoyed me.

“You have no idea how much I’ve gone through to find you,” Abriel says, proud and satisfied with himself. Maybe his world isn’t blown like mine is. “I never stopped looking, not from the moment they announced the Assessment results. God, Sascha, it’s so good to see you!”

“Thanks,” I manage. “It’s good to see you, too.”

“Did he, uh, did he treat you all right? That rich guy?”

He has a name!
I snap inside my head, but I don’t say it. Abriel doesn’t deserve to be snapped at. He’s doing something most people don’t even try to do for their Demoted family members. “He was very good to me,” I manage. “He cared about me in his own way.”

“Yeah, he said as much,” Abriel agrees. “You’re jumpy, though—did he hurt you?”

How do I even answer this? Of course he did, but no, not really. Not like the others. “No,” I settle with the answer he wants to hear. “But things were rough before him.”

“Yeah. I heard about the brothel you were at.” Abriel makes a face. “Sounds awful, although that was where I got that guy’s name from, so I guess they’re good for something.”

I just nod. I don’t want my brother to know what happened to me, not all of it. I know Cash wouldn’t have told him much, either. I’ve been protecting Abriel all my life; I need to keep protecting him from this. Let him guess what he wants, he doesn’t need to know all the details. We can move on with our lives normally now, no need to dwell on the sad things that make up my past.

“You’ve got a bunch of stuff,” Abriel observes. “Must be nice, having a rich master and all.”

“Yeah,” I say, because I nodded to the last question. “Money wasn’t a problem.”

Abriel laughs. “Well, it’s not as free flowing at home, but we do all right.”

There. A change of subject. Good. “You and Maggie?” The girl my brother had dated all through high school had been sweet and hopelessly in love with him. I think if she could have sacrificed herself to save him from the Assessment, she would, but that would never have worked out. It had to be me; I had to trade myself for him.

Abriel shakes his head. “No, uh, Maggie and I… we stopped seeing eye to eye, if you know what I mean.”

“Oh.” I guess it makes sense. People move on, grow up. Just because they were together all through high school doesn’t mean that they still would be. It’s weird to think of Abriel with anyone else, though.