The Superiors (27 page)

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Authors: Lena Hillbrand

BOOK: The Superiors
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Hyoki kissed him, her teeth buzzing a promise into his, and then she left Draven to think and recover. He got the call from Byron in the morning. The panel opposite the bed lit up and Byron appeared. He sat looking down into the communication screen.

“Draven. I’m glad you’re recovering so easily. Looks like those saps did you some good.”
“I wouldn’t call it easily, sir. But I am stronger now.”
“What can I do for you?”
“What has happened to the young sap? He seemed drugged, but no drugs were in his system.”

“Ah, yes. You see, we couldn’t let him among the other homo-sapiens with the knowledge he had. He might not have known about the wood’s effect on us before you got stabbed, we’ll never know. The important thing is that he saw its effect on you, and we couldn’t have him spreading this dangerous knowledge among the other saps. So we had him, say, neutralized.”

“How?”
“Essentially? We cooked his brain.”
“And he’ll live.”

Byron shrugged, an awkward gesture when he was looking down into the screen. “He’ll live. But he’ll never be able to recount what he saw, even if he could speak again, which he never will.”

“That’s not what I meant when I asked for him to be sent back.”

“Did you want us to send him among the thousands at the Confinement with that knowledge? That’s impossible. Maybe if he had simply escaped, and you hadn’t been hurt.”

“You could have told me this would happen to him.”

“Isn’t it better than being weak and in pain his whole life, hooked up to machines that take his life daily? This is a simple life for a sap. He won’t ever feel pain again. He’s lucky, in fact. He’ll never be defiant or angry, or any of the other emotions the sapiens are still capable of nowadays. He’s better off than any sap in that place. He’s at peace.”

“I guess I don’t see that as lucky.”

“Draven, I see that you’re angry. You’re too soft-hearted to them. They’re dumb beasts, brutes. Saps don’t feel things like love and faithfulness and regret and higher emotions that we have. They are simply unfeeling animals. You did this one a favor. Let your mind rest easy with this knowledge, my friend. And don’t waste your feelings on an animal incapable of having those same feelings for itself.”

“Yes, Enforcer, sir.”
“Alright, you get some rest. I have something I’ve been mulling over, something I’d like to ask you about. Concerning Anders.”
“Yes, sir. And thank you for the saps.”

Byron smiled. “It’s the least I can do after your service to your government. You were harmed in the line of duty. They owe you a couple meals on the house, right? And that female you threw, she’s a tasty little treat, isn’t she?”

“Ah—yes. The one I took from that restaurant. I’m afraid I developed a taste for her while I had her.”

“I noticed that when I went to check on her. Her temperament leaves something to be desired, but she looks to have survived your blow very well. I don’t think you hit her as hard as you thought.”

“Perhaps not. I wasn’t paying much attention to her at that point. Was she examined by a doctor?”

“Yes. Just some bruising. She’s fine. Listen, I have to get home to the wife. You heal up, alright soldier? And let that woman of yours take care of you. She looked like she wanted to, and any man would be lucky to have a woman like that around.”

“I suppose so,” Draven said. He needed to talk to Hyoki about Vitrola, but he dreaded the confrontation. As he drifted off to sleep he found himself thinking again about Cali, about her inexplicable hostility towards him. Owning such a discontented sapien would be inconvenient. She would probably try to escape. But perhaps he didn’t mind. Perhaps her discontent would match his own, and they could be restless and unsatisfied together, master and slave, each straining against their own private bondage.

 

 

 

Chapter Thirty-Six

 

 

“Come on, Cali, get up, let’s go,” Poppy said, sticking her head in the door of the house. Like usual, the day was sweltering. Cali hadn’t felt very well and had come back to lie down after the midday meal. She rubbed at her sore arm where her loyal Superior left all the scars from his bites like little reminders of each visit.

“Yeah?” she said, sitting up and rubbing her sweaty hair off her forehead.

“Yeah what? Come on, I’m getting married, you can’t just lay in here and feel bad. Once you get out there and start having fun, you’ll forget all about your cramps. I always feel better when I stay busy,” Poppy said.

“I know, I’m coming. You’re right. And how many times does my sister get married?” Cali asked. She forced a smile on her face and followed Poppy outside into the late afternoon sun. They didn’t get married at night—too many Superiors would come out looking for food or wanting a particular person they’d gotten used to.

The afternoon was too hot to work much anyway, so it made the perfect time for getting married. Cali had attended a handful of marriage ceremonies every year she’d lived in the Confinement, but this would be the first since she’d come back. And it was special, because her own Poppy had found a boy crazy enough to marry her. He didn’t have a house yet, and still slept in the barracks, but Poppy didn’t care. She loved all boys, no matter where they lived or how old they were. Her new husband was thirty-five already.

Cali joined the crowd milling around in the dusty area between the gardens and the ends of the barrack buildings. The cooks had brought the food out and set it up outside. They stood cooking over a huge blaze that made the day even hotter. Cali squinted against the heat and sun and found Gwen and Zinnia. Poppy had gone off to find one of the dresses that came close to fitting.

Everyone had to wear the regulation shifts all the time, even during the day when Superiors weren’t around. The shifts were cool so people didn’t mind. But at some point, a Superior or two had donated some old, worn-out clothes for scraps or for heavier farm work. The clothes sat in a back corner of the storage area, since no one wanted to wear Superior clothes if they could help it. Sometimes people got sent out to work on farms somewhere, and they used the heavy men’s clothes. But the women’s clothes—a few stained or torn dresses—never got used except at marriages. Then the girl got to wear a real dress, and even with stains, it looked better than a dull regulation shift that everyone wore every day and night for their whole lives.

Poppy came back with a faded pink dress on and spun around, laughing. Everyone started cheering, and someone found Poppy’s husband and shoved him up front.

“Say some promises,” someone said.

He cleared his throat. “I’m gonna marry this here lady,” he said. “And I promise to love her real good and take care of her, and her baby, and as many more babies as she has.”

“You better watch out,” someone called. “You better only promise to take care of the ones you think is yours.”
Everyone laughed, including Poppy and her husband, Dan.
“And I promise I’ll love you right back,” Poppy said. “Plus I’ll keep right on having babies until someone buys us all.”

Everyone cheered and started clapping, and someone pulled out the three skin drums and started drumming. In the glare of heat, the bare feet hit the ground in rhythm, making their own dust and music to go along. Cali laughed and let her sisters pull her out into the circling, stomping, barefoot crowd. Even tired and droopy in the heat, she did feel better than lying around in the sweltering gloom of the tin house. She pushed her feet faster, dancing and laughing and catching Poppy to give her a big hug.

Jonathan came over and took Cali’s hands and passed her in the circle, then caught her up and danced with her again. She didn’t care enough to protest. He was nice enough, after all, and he had a house. And for whatever reason, he really wanted to impress her.

She danced away and found Zinnia. “Feeling better?” Zinnia asked.

“Yeah, tons. Wanna eat?”

They ate soybean cakes and corn crackers fried crispy on the huge sheets of metal over the fires. Then someone got out some of the fermented corn whiskey they made sometimes, and everyone started drinking and singing. After she’d drunk a little, Cali forgot about not feeling good, and sang along at the top of her lungs like everyone else, singing her sister off as she went to celebrate her new marriage with Dan inside the barracks before everyone else went in.

The sun started to go down and everyone stumbled around cleaning up and trying to keep their feet if they’d drunk too much. Cali had drunk a little too much, but it made her lively and happy again, so she didn’t care.

At least not until later, when her Superior came and banged on the roof of the house. He didn’t like to go into the house, so she had to go out and let him eat. She stood trying not to lose her balance, although she’d gotten dizzy from standing up too fast. He always ate standing up now, just took her arm and ate and left.

She stumbled a little and he jerked her back, wrenching her shoulder in the process. She gasped and held onto her shoulder with her other hand and bit back the tears that tried to jump up in her eyes. After he left, she stumbled away in the dark and got sick between two houses. She hoped the owners didn’t mind too much. The night had chilled the heat off the day, and in the dark with the stars and the lights and car noises outside, a kind of tired peace settled over Cali.

She still felt sick, and her head seemed to have grown two sizes too big, and her shoulder hurt like crazy, and of course her arm hurt like always, a constant, dull throb. But still, she’d made it home to the Confinement, and her sister had gotten married, and a boy wanted to marry Cali. Things would work out, even if not exactly how she’d expected when she came back. Some of the surprises might even turn out to be good ones.

 

 

 

Chapter Thirty-Seven

 

 

Draven accepted the glass of sap, still warm from the source, and bowed his head in respect. “Thank you, sir.”

“You’re welcome, mister,” Marisol said, smiling sweetly while she reminded him of his inferior status. She turned and walked to the door of Byron’s study, hair done up in the same provocative way as last time Draven had seen her. She turned at the door and raised an eyebrow and smiled again. “You boys have fun in here talking all your big, bad, serious business,” she said, making a little pout. She didn’t have much in the way of hips, but she sure knew how to move them. If she lost any sexiness from being thin, she gained it back in mannerisms. And she looked natural, not all full of plastic implants, and that in itself made her desirable—at least to Draven.

Byron laughed and Marisol let her smile widen to show her lovely white teeth between her red lips. She met Draven’s eye for a second, then turned and left. He could have sworn he saw a bit of a challenge in her look. Perhaps she liked to play that game, flirting in front of her husband, but Draven didn’t like it one bit.

He turned back and cleared his throat and looked into his glass of sap.
“She’s something else, isn’t she?” Byron said.
Draven looked up, then glanced at the empty doorway. “What is she, sir?”
Byron shook his head. “Oh, never mind. It’s just an old saying. I forgot you Thirds don’t use those expressions.”

Draven sipped his sap and didn’t speak. He didn’t like it when Byron did that. It reminded him of how he’d say things like that to Cali—she wouldn’t know because she was only human. And in a way, Seconds did think of Thirds as closer to saps. After all, Seconds had owned the saps that became Thirds. No one had ever owned the Seconds, not even when they were human. They’d always owned themselves. And in a way, they still owned Thirds. Ruled them, anyway.

“What is this news you would share with me, sir?” Draven asked after a time.
Byron smiled. “You’re direct. I like that.”
“It is about Ander? The man from the restaurant? That has been quite a while back, if I remember correctly.”
“Yes, almost a year. But these things take time. And now we have reports of his whereabouts. He’s been seen a few times.”
“I see. This is good news, then. I’m glad to hear this. Let me know if there is any way I can help.”

“Actually, I’m glad you said that. I’ve been watching you since that night we almost caught him. I thought you were very brave, if rash, in that situation. You kept your head and you weren’t afraid to act.” Byron paused and sipped his sap, making a satisfied smacking sound after tasting it.

“Anyhow, I’ve been getting to know you, keeping my eye on your chances for a future promotion. I had begun to wonder if that was just a fluke, if you were not ordinarily so quick to act and so willing to do the right thing regardless of your own safety. But if there’s anything to be learned from your behavior a couple weeks ago, it’s that you are indeed a brave and reckless man.”

“I only did what anyone else would do.”

“Ah, see, that’s where you’re wrong, my friend. Many Superiors, they get used to having this life, and they grow timid, afraid of losing it after all this time. What we need are more men like you. You’re a true soldier, Draven. You were made to kill, and although you were never required to do it, your instinct remains intact.”

“With all due respect, I’ve never even killed an animal since I’ve been a Superior. Sir.”
“But that’s just because of your life circumstances. Anyway, that’s all semantics. I have a proposal for you.”

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