by Dan Ackerman
Rhys shook his head. “You…Arden, you don’t…You don’t mean it.”
“Sure, I do!” He stretched and rolled so he could reach his tablet. It took him a few attempts, his fingers a little clumsy, to do it, and asked, “Eight one three five seven two?”
Rhys barely nodded.
Arden squinted at the tablet, then went in to manually clear the debt from Rhys’s account. He could technically control anyone’s account, even the peers. Bex had written a lot of fine print into the tickets to Eden. Financial supremacy for the Torre family must have seemed like a small price to pay compared to staying on Terra One.
He handed over the tablet to Rhys to show a single, perfect digit in his account.
Rhys covered his mouth with one hand. He shook his head.
Arden sidled closer. “So…can I kiss you now?”
Rhys choked back a sob. He pressed both hands over his mouth.
“Oh, hey, now,” Arden soothed. He put a hand on Rhys’s arm. “What?”
“You couldn’t understand,” he insisted raggedly.
“Do I have to?”
Rhys shook his head.
Arden tried to offer something cheerful. “You’re the first thrall to ever clear his debt, you know.”
“I know,” Rhys whispered shakily.
“You didn’t think I’d do it.”
“No. I thought…I thought you’d get mad at me for even asking.”
Arden brushed his fingers through Rhys’s hair. He wanted to see it out of that messy little bun. “Do you mind?”
“I don’t know.”
“Mmmm, well.” Arden worked the tie out of Rhys’s hair and finger-combed it. “Pretty color.”
“It’s brown.”
“Still pretty.” It felt nice between Arden’s fingers, thick and a little wavy with a little bit of texture so it didn’t slip right through his fingers. “Do you want another drink?”
“That might help.”
Arden giggled and smiled. He nuzzled against Rhys for a second, then poured them both drinks.
Rhys stared into his drink.
“What?”
“I just. I can’t believe it.”
“Well. I really like you, Rhys. If that’s what it takes to make this comfortable for you, then it’s no skin off my nose.” Arden pushed the drink gently up towards Rhys’s mouth. “You need to catch up with me.”
Rhys drank it in two big sips.
“Maybe not that fast.”
Rhys looked more distraught that Arden anticipated.
Maybe that outburst had been just an outburst, not a come-on. Maybe he’d been trying to backpedal.
He could just be overwhelmed. Arden had given him an exceptional sum and they hadn’t arranged any sort of quid pro quo ahead of time.
Arden proposed, “I have an idea.”
“Okay.”
Arden stood, grabbed his tablet, and grabbed Rhys by the wrist. “Come on.”
Rhys followed him to his bedroom.
“Shoes.”
Rhys removed his shoes.
Arden shimmied out of his robe and draped it on the back of a chair. He rolled into bed and gestured for Rhys to join him.
Rhys sat on top of the covers.
Arden didn’t push it.
Rhys probably hadn’t done this before. He seemed too upright and noble for this kind of thing. Too self-assured to barter sexual favors for new shoes or a warmer coat.
And he really did need new shoes, Arden noticed. His were patched, and lumpy with glue at the seams.
Arden hadn’t done this before, either. He’d never slept with a thrall.
Except Rhys wasn’t a thrall anymore.
He certainly wasn’t a peer, though.
Not that it mattered.
Arden pulled up the movies on his tablet. “Whenever I was in a particularly grumpy mood, Mama and I would have snacks in bed and watch a movie.”
“Oh.”
“It’s, uh, it’s not quite the same without the snacks. And it’s not the same without someone to watch with me. But…” Arden shrugged. “She might be gone, but she left me a really good movie collection. Do you want some snacks?”
“Uh.”
Arden handed over the tablet. “Here, pick something out.” He rolled over to dig through his bedside drawer. He kept an emergency stash of chocolates there. He’d outgrown the habit of eating his feelings, but he kept them for nostalgia’s sake. “They’re a little old but I don’t think chocolate goes bad.” He handed a bar to Rhys. “What’d you pick?”
“I don’t know.”
Arden peered at the title. “That’s a sequel.”
“Oh.”
“We’ll watch the first one though, that’s fine.”
He found Searching for Haven and started it. He rested his head on Rhys’s arm. He hadn’t had someone to do this with in years.
Mother hadn’t liked movies. Or, if she had, she had never made time to watch them.
He explained, “There’s three or four more of these, they’re like…low budget sci-fi movies, but there was this actress in them, Abercrombie Winston, and she had a huge cult following. People who went to see whatever she was in no matter how bad it was.”
“Oh.”
“This one’s pretty good, though.” Arden burrowed a little closer to Rhys, who still hadn’t joined him under the covers. He peeled back the wrapper of the chocolate.
Rhys didn’t talk much. He didn’t eat the chocolate or come under the covers or put his arm around Arden. He remained stiff and uncomfortable beside him.
Finally, Arden had to ask, “Have you done this before?”
“Which part?”
“I don’t know. Any of it. Had an affair with a peer?”
“No.”
“Been with a guy?”
Rhys scowled and his cheeks darkened.
Arden didn’t know what that reaction meant, so he teased, “Had sex?”
Rhys chuckled. “Yeah. I’ve done that.”
Arden nestled up to him. “I really do like you, Rhys. I’m…You know. These things between classes, they’re usually just…quick bits of nothing, no names, no anything. I’d be okay if we took it a little slower than that.”
“We do already know each other’s names.”
“Is that wild?”
“Slow is fine.”
Arden squeezed Rhys. He fell asleep before the movie finished.
In the morning, he woke up to a quiet voice saying, “Your Eminence.”
He burrowed his face harder against…against someone’s back. He tightened his grip. Rhys. He smiled.
“Please, Your Eminence, I have to go to work.”
Arden released him and pushed himself up. “How about that kiss, though?”
Rhys kissed him. A slow and somewhat hesitant kiss that warmed when Arden gripped the front of Rhys’s shirt.
Arden didn’t want to let go but when Rhys stepped back, he let him. “Have a nice first day at work.”
“It’s not…” Rhys paused. “Uh. I guess it sort of is.”
“I’ll see you later?”
“I should go home.”
Home. What a concept. It dawned on Arden that Rhys might have people to tell. Parents or siblings, or just friends. “Mmm. Okay. Different night. Bye.”
“Goodbye, Your Eminence.”
Arden watched him go and snuggled back into the covers. He should get up.
People would be buzzing once they found out that a thrall had cleared his debts. All of Eden would want to know how he’d managed it.
Arden figured he could officially call it a commendation for good work done in the hydroponics bays. Or for a decade of good advice.
Really, for the opening of a new era on Eden.
From bed, he drafted an announcement of what he’d meant to tell Rhys last night. He bathed, then reconsidered what he’d written. He took a shot of Twelve and had a bit of breakfast, then sent his final copy, first directly to the Council members, then to
all of Eden.
Effective in eight weeks, all the current Council members were dismissed from their positions and ineligible to run again for another five years.
Arden made the first nomination of the new campaign.
Cole Baker, the poet, who called him in hysterics about five minutes later.
Arden had underestimated how much people would panic in response to his announcement. Almost nothing got done on Eden for two days such was their distress, so he called everyone to the Amphitheater. In the mezzanine, hordes of thralls crowded together, too far away to see Arden as anything more than a speck.
The peers, though, he could make out some of their faces.
It seemed faintly ridiculous that with so few citizens the mezzanine saw any use at all.
He stepped up to the microphone and said, “We have been your Autarch for more than ten years now. This Council has served since our mother’s time. Although we’ve often wished that her reign over Eden had not ended so soon, it is time for us to step out of her shadow. It is time for Eden to step out of the shadow of what it was meant to be and become what it truly is. We cannot do this with a Council elected in a different mindset.”
The crowd rustled, tense, impatient.
“We cannot have incapable supervisors who balk at good advice. We cannot waste and expect that we will never want. Eden will survive because it cannot fail. A new Council is not a desperate act. It is a hopeful one. Make your nominations for new members and make those nominations with hope.”
None of this applied to the thralls. They got no vote.
Something Rhys had said rolled around in Arden’s mind. Something that had never occurred to him and which he had written off as foolishness. Even Rhys hadn’t taken it seriously.
He made a split-second decision.
“For years, the keenest mind we know has not belonged to the peerage. This person lacked the education and advantages of our upbringing but has shown endless resourcefulness. Because of this, we welcome another change to the Council. The indentured will have their voice, too. Their votes now decide a single seat.”
A rush of noise went through the crowd.
Gasps, yes, but something from the mezzanine. At first, he thought it must be screaming, but they were cheers.
What difference did one seat out of eleven make? Probably hardly any, but if there were other thralls out there as smart as Rhys, maybe having them vote would lend something to Arden’s vision.
“We welcome a new era, all of us, together. Thank you.”
He retreated to his chambers before the Amphitheater could empty, ducking through servant passages.
He didn’t want to face the crowds up close.
He locked the doors to his room and requested he not be disturbed.
He also sent messages to safety officers to tread carefully.
Half an hour later, someone knocked on his door.
He expected Cole or Mace, or maybe Cathie, and he would turn them away, but when he saw Rhys, he opened the door.
“You’ve gone absolutely mad,” Rhys accused as he entered.
Arden smiled. Warmth fluttered from his stomach up to his face. He’d been so busy managing the minor political crisis he’d caused that they hadn’t seen each other. “It is a little rambunctious of me, isn’t it?”
“They’re going to tear Eden apart.”
Arden shrugged. “Let them try. She was built to withstand an asteroid.”
Rhys seized Arden by the shoulders. “Why are you doing this?”
“Because I can.”
“It’s a game,” he accused.
Arden stepped back. “No. It’s…You see the same quarterly reports I do, Rhys. You know we can’t keep doing this. You made it work with Mace. Together, us, a new Council, we’ll make it work on the whole station. It’s this or slowly die over the next century.”
“I fixed an obvious and glaring problem. I can’t conjure more workers out of nowhere!”
“It’s not about how many thralls we have. It’s about how hard they’re working.”
“They’re already working as hard as they can!” Rhys’s face twisted, a flash of real emotion that Arden had never seen from him before.
Arden rubbed the fabric of Rhys’s shirt between his fingers. “No. They’re working as hard as they want to, given their current circumstances. Improve circumstances. Improve morale. Improve productivity. Hopefully.”
Rhys stared at him like he’d changed languages.
Arden sidled closer and put his arms around his shoulders. “Let’s pretend you haven’t been yelling at me. Let’s try this again.”
“I…” Rhys glanced at the arms around him but didn’t pull back.
“I’ll go first. Rhys, I’ve been busy, I missed you.”
“I. Things…things have been busy,” Rhys agreed. He put one hand on Arden’s side.
“I didn’t get to hear anything about what it’s like to be…uh. Emancipated? Let’s call it that. How is it to be emancipated?”
“It’s…unreal.”
“Hmm, that’s it?”
“It’s fucking amazing.”
Arden grinned. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
He kissed him and drew him in closer. Something didn’t feel right about this, but Arden couldn’t put his finger on what. He worked his fingers into Rhys’s hair. He wanted to do more. He wanted to drag him in and kiss him hard. He wanted to tear him out of his clothes.
He wanted, honestly, to do anything. Even if it was watching another movie or laying on the floor. He just wanted to feel something, something that wouldn’t be latched onto a person he couldn’t have, who didn’t want him.
Cathie had never wanted him, neither had Mace, though in different ways. None of the people he’d slept with had done it because they liked him, not really.
He stepped back. “Do you like me?”
Rhys tilted his head.
“I mean. Honestly. Not between Autarch and the man he owned. Because I meant it when I said I like you, Rhys. It’d be great if you liked me, too.”
Rhys smiled gently. “I, yeah. I like you.”
“Really?”
“Yes.”
“So why does kissing you feel like kissing a pillow?”
“You kiss a lot of pillows?” Rhys asked.
“Rhys,” Arden whined. He nearly stomped his foot.
“I like you, Arden,” Rhys assured. “But…My whole life got turned upside down because apparently you like me a lot more than I thought. Things feel…unreal. Like it’s a joke or a lie or…or a test.”
“Upside down in a good way, right?”
Rhys smiled at him. “Yes.” He took Arden’s hand. “And then you sent the whole station topsy-turvy. We’re all reeling.”
Arden twisted his fingers with Rhys’s and kissed his knuckles. “I planned to tell you about it first but, uh, you started yelling at me and asking me for things.”
“I…!”
Arden turned their hands and kissed his inner wrist. “Yeah. You.”
A dark flush came across Rhys’s cheeks.
“Come lay down with me. We can finish our conversation from last time.”
“You fell asleep last time.”
“Drinking does that to me,” Arden admitted easily. He gave Rhys a tug and when he came along, Arden slung an arm around him to pull him close. He slipped off his shoes and rolled into bed.
Rhys watched him with a funny expression on his face.
“What?”
“You’ve been acting different.”
“I’ve been feeling different. Take your shoes off.”
Rhys took longer than necessary to remove his shoes. He sat on the edge of his bed when he had.
Arden rested his head on one of Rhys’s thighs. “You’ve gone all the way with girls?”
“I’m twenty-nine,” Rhys pointed out as though it meant something.
Arden pursed his lips, then offered, “I didn’t until I was thirty-two, so let’s n
ot take things for granted.”
“Oh.”
“But you haven’t with a guy?”
“I’ve done plenty of things with different kinds of people. You don’t have to worry about me being inexperienced.”
“Really?”
Rhys gave a bit of a rascally smile. “It’s the cheapest way to have fun.”
Arden giggled. “Do you get around, then? Lots of friends in lots of places?”
“I used to.”
“Mmm, coping mechanisms of a desperate youth. I understand that.”
Rhys ran his fingers over the soft fabric of Arden’s sleeve. “Who says my youth was desperate?”
Instead of pointing out the look in his eye, his careful poise, and the thin scars Arden had glimpsed on his arms, he said, “Mama treated food like tangible love. She was so round and chubby. And so pretty. She had the warmest hugs. I was a chubby little boy, too, until Mama passed and…” Arden rubbed his nose. “And Mother pointed out chubby cheeks and a jiggly belly wasn’t as becoming on me as it was on other people.”
“Oh.”
“Lost it like that.” Arden snapped his fingers. “Formulas helped.” He gazed up at Rhys. “Now it’s your turn to share.”
Rhys shook his head. “No one wants to hear that.” He slid his fingers through Arden’s hair, combing it out so it draped down his back.
Arden came close to saying, “I do,” but the chance escaped him because Rhys brushed his fingers over Arden’s ass and it sent a quiver of longing through him.
Rhys jerked his hand back. “Your, uh. Your hair is so long. I didn’t…”
Arden pushed himself up, then climbed over to the center of the bed. “Come lay next to me.”
Rhys stretched out next to him. “I’m supposed to be at work.”
“Then you should have gone to work instead of coming here,” Arden pointed out. “Besides, do you think anyone’s working right now? I mean…They’re in their crews, but I’m sure they’re not working.”
“Can I come back tonight?”
“You can come back every night.”
“I meant can I leave?”
“Oh.” He felt awkward and sort of stupid. “I’m not the sort to keep a body where it doesn’t want to be.”
Rhys tucked a piece of Arden’s hair behind his ear. “I’ll come back tonight.”
Arden had lost the plot of their relationship completely at this point. His suspicions that Rhys had not meant to start this firmed up, hard and cold in his belly. “Don’t come back if you don’t want to do this.”
