I was startled awake by the unexpected, albeit pleasant, sensation of a kiss. Unexpected, because I hadn't paid for more than a few hours the night before.
“Such initiative,” I remarked, drawing a mischievous giggle as the warm press of lips continued down my chest.
I let out a surprised breath as her tongue dipped into my navel, followed by a deeper exhale as her mouth found something lower.
“Enough,” I shouted as a loud series of knocks at the door threatened to shatter my morning bliss.
“Not you, dear, you're doing marvelously,” I added, sensing a slight pause from the industrious consort, “let the old man knoc—”
I groaned my irritation as the doors swung open.
“Young lord, we received a response from Admiral Kadesh,” Aldren said, the old aristocrat’s voice echoing my chambers as he began parting curtains.
“And?” I asked, resting my hand on the consort’s head, threading my fingers through the tresses of her hair in encouragement. “what new dust does the old relic breathe?”
“Despite my best efforts to explain the…deficit,” Aldren paused, as if suggesting I might conclude my festivities. I didn't.
“Admiral Kadesh is demanding the vita he purchased in its entirety, or his money back,” he finished.
“Demanding?” I spat, finally abandoning the carnal venture as I rose abruptly.
“From what bottomless fount of temerity did he sip to start making demands of me?” I shouted, ignoring the startled consort and Aldren’s embarrassed glances as I strode naked across the room, arms flailing in outrage.
I ran my hand impatiently over an ornamented silver dome that slid open to reveal a collection of spirits and powders.
“The gall.” I started, cracking open a small vial and inhaling the powder within before pouring myself a drink.
“If not for this house, his little gaggle of vultures would still be preying on settlers in the rim.” I finished, slamming the glass on my desk as I sat. I let out a frustrated sigh as I watched the consort, now almost fully dressed, slip through the doors behind Aldren.
“Yes, lord, at your suggestion I did mention that to the admiral… and he asked I convey his deepest gratitude for your father's help in acquiring Orvus Trading…thirty-seven years ago. He also asked that I emphasize the words ‘your father’ and the number of years when I relayed that to you,” He finished, dryly.
“And did you explain that we spent it already?” I asked.
“I thought it best not to, given that he expects you to remedy the situation within twelve days,” Aldren replied, already bracing for my outburst.
“Twelve days?” I said, eyes threatening to leap from my skull, “Or what?”
“He’s threatened to file a complaint with the guild, for which the Arbitri is likely to pull your export permit,” Aldren said in an ‘I told you so’ kind of way. His eyes softened when he caught the truly desperate look on my face.
“It may be time to approach your father, lord. The incident with the feral was unforeseeable; there’s always the chance he’ll under—"
“No,” I cut him off, eying the floor in quiet resignation, “You know better than anyone that I’ve exhausted all nine lives with the duke, Aldren. What of the Sothren Trust,” I began, my question fading when I caught the impatient sneer tugging at his mouth. Had he really expected me to grovel to daddy?
“On that front, Lord, I’m afraid I bring more bad news. The Sothren Trust has declined to issue you another loan.”
“I’m sure they could be convinc—”
“They’ve opted to close your lordship’s account.” He interrupted, “and are threatening liens lest you settle the balance.”
“Liens?” I scoffed, throwing up my hands as I sunk deeper into my chair. “More demands.”
“Well surely you have some good news?” I pressed him, growing desperate. “What of the girl…the feral? Has the medicus determined how she was able to bond with a seed?”
“His report concluded nothing remarkable about the…livestock’s physiology.” He raised his eyebrow as he emphasized the word. As if a simple rebranding absolved us. It was amazing how far society would twist its neck to avoid looking what we did in the eye. I wondered if they could hear their own bones breaking. Aldren stopped, sighing as he always did when my thoughts drew inward. “If this is too boring for your lordship—”
“No.” I waved my hand. “Please, continue.”
“Even among the Emperor’s lineage, only a rare few have ever managed anything similar.”
I raised an eyebrow, “Is…she—”
“No, there’s nothing to suggest she was anything more than livestock when she bonded with the seed,” Aldren answered, anticipating my question.
“What does her genome look like now?”
“Her pathways are still developing, but her lifespan more closely resembles that of a citan now, her regeneration and muscle density are nearly at the level of a lineates.”
“Livestock...as strong as a low noble...” I breathed, tapping an area on my desk to display the footage of the incident. “There must’ve been something unusual about her.”
“According to the report we recovered from the Sanctari of her village, she was unusual in that her dorsolateral prefrontal cortex was fully develop—” I stopped him with my hand.
“Her…what?” I asked, distracted by the holo-tape. My mouth twisted in disgust as a particularly gruesome scene involving a young man’s head played out. Who knew a neck could break like that.
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“The part of her brain responsible for critical reasoning, lord. Hers appear to be functioning, despite genetic modifications to remove those higher functions from livestock several generations ago,” he eyed me a moment, a twinge of doubt in his eyes, as if unsure I was following. I ignored the slight as he continued, “Of course, that wouldn’t explain her ability to bond with the seed.”
“Or anyone with some semblance of reasoning could pop one in, yes yes, I understand,” I finished impatiently. “But could we determine the reason if we continued studying her?” I asked, already rolling my eyes at the expression on his face. He sputtered and blinked as if someone had just urinated on it.
“As you know, lord, it’s heresy to even attempt to glean such…information, and if your lordship began hiring scientists, the empire would send an inquisitor to find out exactly what it is you’re studying,” Aldren answered, his voice hushed.
“Couldn’t afford them anyways,” I confessed, allowing myself to sulk for a moment before continuing.
“What if we sold her to another family? The Tavrens? Or one of their biogenics corps? I’m sure Fidelia would jump at the opportunity.” I said, imagining the matron in all her cantankerous glory. In truth, I already had something else in mind but leading with that would be a mistake. Aldren would shoot my first idea down, regardless of how sound it was.
“Doing anything besides killing her would be a risk, lord,” he replied.
“And here I thought you were trying to help me.” I said, drumming my desk in a show of impatience.
“If we were to find a buyer it would take time. Missives over subspace are strictly monitored by the empire. We would need to send a representative to each potential buyer, which could take months…or years.”
“And I have twelve days…” I muttered, defeat returning to my voice as I somehow sunk lower in my chair. I stared despondently at the swirling liquid in my glass.
“Still,” I mused, pretending an idea had just started to form, “She is strong…and clever for livestock. Did you see how she managed to access the elevator?”
“Yes, lord, which is all the more reason to dispose of her,” he urged, caution in his voice.
“I have a better idea,” I said, grinning. Aldren stared, jowls slack, as he tried to puzzle out what silver lining I’d managed to pluck from all this.
“The Coliseum,” I said, relishing the look of bewilderment on the old man’s face. One of my favorite pastimes.
“You’d hardly cover a week of interest by selling a feral to the games,” he scoffed.
“Oh, I don’t intend to sell her as a beast,” I corrected.
“You’ve seen the tapes,” I gestured at the flickering images on my desk, “She can speak, and aside from the eyes she appears entirely human. We’ll enter her as a gladiator.”
“My lord,” Aldren snorted, “Training a gladiator is a serious undertaking. They require extensive augmentation to be competitive. If you can’t pay your creditors, then surely you can’t afford to waste time playing lanista.”
“I'm not playing at anything,” I smiled, “fate played this card for us.”
“Fate?” he uttered, rolling his eyes. “Even if the girl cooperates it would take weeks to pay Rulo back, unless your scheme also involves gambling on her with what little you have.” My eyebrows lifted in admiration of the idea, Aldren seemed to notice, shaking his head in response.
“Not a bad idea, old man, but no,” I said, flicking my wrist as a new image glowed above my desk. “My scheme involves this.”
“Young lord,” he pinched the bridge of his nose, pausing to take in a breath. “I understand you're under a lot of stress, but this is the kind of lunacy your father asked me to steer you from.” he gestured to the ad reel for the tournament glittering above my desk. It featured two oily looking men, each of them clad in leather as they carved each other to pieces with obscenely large weapons. I waved the scene away as a winged beast swooped down, decapitating them both and sending their severed heads spiraling toward the camera.
“You’re welcome to take the helm, old man,” I said, flinging my arms wide open. “But we’re already sinking…there’s no point in arguing over deck chairs now.”
“Deck chairs? Perhaps I should call the medicus,” he suggested, rubbing his temple.
“Listen,” I reasoned, “If she’s as strong as you say, she’s already more than a match for anyone in the games, and with her regeneration she’s sure to survive for a few floors. It’s poetry, really. Using the girl who bankrupted me to recoup one’s losses.”
“You hate the games. You have since you were a child.”
“People change, old man.” I said, frowning when he gave me a doubtful look. “Besides, if you haven’t noticed, I’m practically destitute.”
“Yes, or,” he started, his eyes narrowing as he strolled towards my bookshelf. “This is another one of your ill-conceived plots to embarrass your father.” He stuck a finger in the bookshelf, flicking out a dusty 20th century tome I recognized instantly. One of the few philosophers I’d neglected to dispose of. “I see you kept this.” He said, sneering as he turned it over.
“It’s worth money, Aldren.” I replied. “That’s a first edition of Capital.”
“Really?” He said, tipping his head to one side as he eyed me mockingly. “You know I went to great lengths to convince your father to spare you after your little excursion into the slums. I’m not sure he’d be impressed with you hanging on to any more of this…sophistry.”
“Add it to the pyre,” I said, doing my best to feign indifference. “I’ve put all that revolutionary drivel behind me.” My heart snapped in half as he paced slowly toward the fireplace, his back turned to me.
“Great idea, Lord. I believe I will.” He said, after he’d already tossed the book inside. I could see a trace of satisfaction in his eyes as he studied mine, searching for a reaction. I made a point of not letting my eyes linger on the book as the pages flaked to ash.
“See? A new leaf, as they say.” I said, smiling as I reclined in my seat. “I’m being serious, old man. This is the perfect way to show my father I’m committed to the family business.”
“How’s that, Lord?”
“By making lemonade—” I faltered when he shot a look of confusion. “From lemons. It’s an expression.”
“I’m aware of the expression, Lord. What isn’t clear is how. Your father put you in charge of his agria six months ago, and you’ve somehow managed to lose an entire harvest.”
“Which is why if I don’t do something, he’ll either cull me or ship me off to the front.” I reached for the bottle across my desk, ignoring Aldren’s scoff. “Besides, while he’s off world, you are obligated to do as I command.”
“Not if what you command jeopardizes House Caelan.”
“Entering her in the games hardly puts our name at risk, let me use the gi—livestock to recover our losses. Surely even my father can appreciate a little initiative?”
“Your losses.” He muttered, looking down as he sucked his teeth. I smiled at the tell, knowing it meant he was actually considering it.
“Come to think of it,” I said, pouring myself a congratulatory drink. “If I place the right wagers, I might be able to pay the old admiral back on her qualifying match alone.” I wondered whether I should thank him for the idea, before noticing a frown starting to form along his lips. Words raced off my tongue, trying to beat his objection. “Naturally, we’ll take things one match at a time…exercising an abundance of caution.”
“Naturally.” He repeated, rolling his eyes. “And what makes you believe she’ll be cooperative?”
“Why, you of course,” I said, folding my arms and leaning back. “Who else?”
“Me, Lord?” He droned, his gaze flicking pointedly to the glass in my hand. “Pray tell, what makes me the right man for this…task?”
“You’ve kept all my father’s children in check, what’s one calf?” I answered, setting my unconsumed drink aside, which for me was truly an act of desperation. “Tell her whatever you must…money, freedom, I don’t care. If she can make it past the qualifier, that solves our admiral problem.”
Aldren let out a pained sigh that let me know I’d won. His hand went to his chin, eyes narrowing as the old wheels in his head began to turn. I imagined they were rusty.
“What about her eyes,” he asked, hushed as if the walls might hear him, “they’ll raise questions.”
“Aldren,” I said, half-teasing. “What do I need you for if I have to manage every little detail? That’s for you to figure out.”
“L-lord,” Aldren’s eyebrows contorted, mouth opening and closing as he scrambled for an objection.
I’ll treasure this moment, I thought, pausing to revel at his loss for words.
“Send word to the curator that we’ll be entering a new gladiator into the games.” I said, in cheery contrast to Aldren, who seemed to swallow the empire with a single nervous gulp.
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