The Superiors

by Lena Hillbrand

  THE SUPERIORS

  Lena Hillbrand

  Copyright 2011 Lena Hillbrand

  Kindle Edition

  This book can also be purchased in print Amazon.com.

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  Kindle Edition, License Notes

  This ebook is licensed for personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold, reproduced, or given away to other people. If you would like to give this book to another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. Thank you for respecting the hard work of Kindle authors.

  Chapter One

  Draven punched out and collected his pay at the sound of the bells signaling the end of working hours. Every morning, the same thing. Although the night marked one hundred years to the night since his evolution, he didn’t think of that. He didn’t know it was an anniversary of sorts for him—like for most of his people, time had ceased to have meaning the way it did for homo-sapiens. Even if he had known of the anniversary, he wouldn’t have thought much about it. His thoughts centered around one thing—eating.

  Hunger nibbled continually at the edges of his nerves. Having only eaten one of his five rations that evening and nothing all night, he had begun to weaken from overwhelming thirst. He hadn’t gone so long without nourishment for a very long time. Unlike the usual slow work night, tonight his team had found a cache of contraband—mostly wooden items—that kept his team busy and a bit nervous. But he didn’t think about that now, either. The hunger made him frantic like an animal, clouded his vision, made important things fade and seem inconsequential.

  He had nearly reached the restaurant when he saw her. If he hadn’t been so hungry, he would have noticed her earlier. But with his mind so distracted, he didn’t see the homo-sapien until she darted into the street directly in front of his silent car. She glanced up, her eyes huge and terrified, when she realized her mistake. But she kept going. So did he, for a second, too startled to command the Mert to stop. When he did, he also applied the manual brakes. He didn’t think the stop command would work fast enough to spare the animal’s life.

  He swore and wrenched the brake back. The car began to skid. He pressed his palm to the steering screen and spun it, pressing down hard, as if that would prove more effective than a light touch. The car spun. It slid sideways and smashed into the corner of a building. Draven’s head jarred against the window. A bolt of pain shot through him, and for a moment, stunned him into immobility. The flash of raw, fierce pain held him in its grip for a few moments and then began to fade, restoring his vision as it receded. The car had jolted to a stop, melded to the building it hit. He sat for a few seconds, waiting for his mind to catch up with what had just happened.

  “Merde,” he said, slamming his hand on the dash. He got out and went around the car. The building had crushed the side of the Mert. He scowled and shoved the car away from the wall, back onto the street. The wheels still functioned, and since only the side of the car had caved, he wouldn’t have to pay for the damage. The Memory Metal would find the correct shape again in a night or so. Still, he’d have to drive around with a dented car. And he’d have to get the ad on the side redone.

  He’d already opened his door to get back in when he caught a faint whiff of sap and remembered the cause of the accident. Damn sapien, running into the street without looking for turning cars. Or too simple-minded to notice them. And what was a sap doing alone on the street at this hour of the night, the last meal before Superiors went to sleep? Even trusted saps who ran errands should have gone home an hour ago. And they wouldn’t run like that.

  Saps were always causing problems—escaping the Confinement, staying out past the appropriate hours for errands, running away from their owners. Granted, sometimes their owners could be quite cruel, but Draven didn’t like to dwell on that. That was just the way of the world.

  Before sliding into the car, he scented for the runaway. Even from the next street over he could hear where she’d gone, and he could still smell her tantalizing aroma, so tempting in his current state of hunger. He should bring her in. He’d get a bonus if she was a runaway, and he could use it to fix the ad on his car. She’d caused the damage, after all.

  He turned onto the street where he’d heard her, and after a second, he spotted her. He slowed his Mert to watch her darting along the side of the buildings, away from the lights. She must have been young then, young enough not to realize he could see her in the shadows, even in the dark.

  Of course he had to report her or bring her in, and he needed that money. But, already exhausted and pulling on his reserve for strength, he didn’t know if he could do it. He didn’t know if he could resist. He knew the law as well as anyone, though. Feeding on someone else’s property constituted theft. But the law—that was one of the important things that started to seem inconsequential in the face of overpowering hunger.

  Another glance at his electronic dash screen told him they were alone. He slowed the car almost to a stop. No one around. What would it hurt? He could just quench his thirst for a minute, just a bite to eat, and then he’d put her out and someone else could bring her in. No one would know, especially if she wasn’t private property. He needed to eat more than he needed money. If he just got a bit of her and let her go, no one could trace the crime back to him. It wasn’t like sap-napping. Just a loan.

  He eased up beside her and stopped the car. She stood frozen. When he opened his door, he could hear her heart beating, could hear the blood throbbing out of her center and through her veins, rushing to her head, to her legs, pulsing through her arteries. She kept her back glued to the wall in the darkest pool of shadow, her eyes darting about wildly while the rest of her remained stationary. Perhaps she didn’t know he could see her, but she was ready to run if he did. He took a step towards her, then another.

  Then she ran.

  She sprinted faster than a sapien could manage without the rush of added adrenaline. Draven watched her for a few seconds before he pursued her. In a few quick bounds he caught her and gathered both her arms behind her. He hadn’t been a Catcher a dozen different times for nothing. He’d learned a thing or two about dealing with saps in his hundred Superior years.

  He glanced around. The discovery of the dangerous material that night had put him on edge, and breaking the law was not something he did lightly. But no one appeared in the street. Even if a few people had seen him, they wouldn’t have known that he wasn’t simply recovering his own possession, or taking her to the Confinement.

  She let out a piercing, quite human shriek when he tucked her under his arm. After pushing her into the Mert, he slid behind the wheel. She kicked at him, panicked. He didn’t want her to kick the dash screen while he drove and cause an accident, so he waited for her to tire. Still, her thrashing irritated him, so he caught one of her feet and closed his fingers around her slim ankle. He hadn’t realized how young she was, no more than a child, really. She wasn’t his usual preference, but she smelled scrumptious.

  “Do you know my language?” he asked in the slow way he used with animals. Calming their hysteria, soothing them.

  She looked at him, her eyes wide and nostrils flared. She nodded.

  “Very well. Then calm yourself. I’m not going to hurt you. But if you run again, I’ll have to take you to the blood bank.”

  She shrank away from him, and he released her ankle when he sensed her shift from blind panic to simple fear. He could smell it coming off her in waves, filling the car. He didn’t like the smell, but he’d grown so used to it that he hardly noticed it anymore. He pulled away from the curb, the almost silent swish of his tires the only sound in the stillness.

  “What are you going to do to me?” she asked in a small voice.r />
  He reached over to pat her dirty, bare knee. “I don’t know yet.”

  “Are you going to take me back?”

  “Eventually.”

  Her heartbeat slowed as she calmed, but he knew after speaking with her that she was too young. He didn’t like saplings—they reminded him of his childhood. And their sap had an unappealing thinness and lacked the richness that entered the bloodstream when they came of mating age. But she didn’t look any weaker than any other sapien, and she smelled healthy. He’d eaten plenty of sap that didn’t especially appeal to him.

  His mind raced every time a car passed. Almost every car had a different ad painted on it, but he kept a lookout for the fancier, plain-colored ones. He only saw two of those—the people who could afford those cars didn’t live in his neighborhood. The people in his neighborhood didn’t own livestock, either, and they knew he owned no livestock. He kept watchful, wondering if he’d have an opportunity to get the sapien inside unobserved. The shabby cars and unadorned buildings around his apartment hummed with activity, last minute preparations for meals and sleep. He stopped in front of his building and turned to the sap.

  “Don’t make a scene, and I won’t hurt you unnecessarily. Do you understand?”

  “Are you going to kill me?” she asked. Her voice shook.

  “Not if you cooperate. Come along then, I just need to go inside for something, then I’ll take you back.”

  “I don’t want to go back. They were going to sell me to a restaurant.”

  She should be so lucky. He could think of worse places to go.

  “I can’t keep you, although I’d like to,” he said, eyeing her. Hunger and impatience nagged at him. Something different about the smell of her sap drew him in, something wonderful. He pulled her from the car and she started struggling, but she didn’t scream.

  “Be still.” He put slight pressure on her neck with his fingers, and she obeyed, gasping in pain at his strength. He slid his hand around the base of her skull under the layer of pale hair that fell down her back. “Good girl, good girl, that’s just right,” he said. While leading her towards the steps, he glanced around and saw a few people out. He didn’t make eye contact, although he thought he felt their eyes on him.

  He shot a glance left and then right, but he kept his head down while he climbed the stairs. What was the punishment for being caught with an illegal human? Hunger distracted him and he couldn’t remember for the moment, or perhaps he just didn’t want to remember. When he put his hand on the keypad, his door slid open, and he pushed the sapien into his apartment.

  He glanced around one last time, making sure the hallway stood empty before he went inside. The sap started struggling again at the door. But she was weak like all saps, and ignorant to imagine she could escape or fight off a Superior.

  Draven took off his work coat and hung it on the back of a chair. “Come here,” he said, rolling up his sleeves. He knew he was going to do something illegal, and he hesitated, but only for a moment. The hunger grew and grew, threatening to blind him. Outside the small window in his apartment, the sky had begun to lighten. He hadn’t eaten for so long.

  The sap cowered in the corner.

  “Come here,” he repeated, pointing to a chair. His teeth throbbed for her. “Do as I command you.”

  She came across the room, her wary eyes never leaving his face.

  “Good girl.” He stroked her hair in the soothing way animals liked. “Do you have a name, little sap?”

  “Aspen.”

  “Aspen?” he asked in surprise, remembering the contraband in the ground. That was a dangerous name.

  “Yeah, so?”

  “That’s a good name for such a good girl.” He lifted her and set her on the edge of the table. “Now, Aspen, I’m not going to hurt you any more than I have to, alright? Just a little prick. You’ll hardly feel it.” He continued stroking her hair and her arms while he checked the insides of her elbows. Clean. She had the little port in her upper arm where all government-owned sapiens gave their nightly donation, but no other marks. He lifted her hair and turned her so he could see her neck and shoulders, then dropped her hair and stroked her back in the same soothing way. Animals were much more cooperative when calm and well-treated. And saps deserved kindness—after all, they were necessary, essential to life. Draven didn’t like hurting them so he tried to be quick. Feeding on the livestock didn’t necessitate cruelty.

  He examined Aspen’s ankles, her legs, ran his fingers behind her knees. She sat perfectly still, staring at the wall above his head while he pushed up her shift and checked her groin and thighs. Nothing. She was smooth all over. The insides of her thighs had a few round scars the size of the pad of his thumb, but he didn’t find more. He stood looking at her scars, fitted his thumbs to the tissue-thin skin of the marks. He knew those marks. He had those marks.

  He shook his head as if he could shake the memory from his mind.

  “How many years do you have, Aspen?”

  “Eleven.” Her voice was defiant again. “How old are you?”

  “Twenty-three.” He didn’t know his actual years anymore. But to her, he would be twenty-three. He had been twenty-three for a very long time.

  “I’m almost twelve,” she said.

  He looked at her, calculating. “And you’ve never been bitten?”

  “No. I was bought once, but I ran away. And they took me to the blood bank for a while, but I got sick and they sent me back to the Confinement.”

  He wasn’t sure how she’d react to this, then. She had run twice now, even after knowing the risk of going back to the blood bank. She must have a phobia of biting, and she’d gotten quite lucky.

  “Are you going to run now? Do I need to restrain you?”

  She looked at him, childish belligerence in her eyes. “No. I’m not going to run.”

  “Good. Because I’m very hungry, and if I get angry, I might hurt you inadvertently.”

  When her heart sped up, he could smell the rush of blood surging up in her again. It made him ravenous for her.

  “Hold quite still for me. That’s a good little sap. Just like that. Very nice.” While he tied a cord around her arm, he continued speaking to her. “I’ll be gentle. I don’t want to hurt you. Just like this, yes. You’re so good.” He placed a towel on the edge of the table and sat between her knees so he could hold her if she struggled. “If you struggle, it will hurt more, yes? It will tear your flesh. So be nice and good for me, and I’ll be good to you.”

  Her nearness, the mouthwatering smell of her, the sound of her blood rushing under her skin, all of it blinded him. He was so very hungry.

  Putting an arm around her back to keep her still, he scooted her forward until she sat at the very edge of the table. He could hardly control himself anymore. But when he looked up, he found her terrified, panicking. He kept an arm around her back like a steel band while he reached up with his other hand and gently covered her eyes. “Close your eyes now,” he said gently.

  Her vein had popped up beautiful and blue and pulsing with life. He couldn’t control himself any longer, but he didn’t have to. He turned her arm and let his teeth enter her vein. She gave a small cry and her body went rigid, but he kept his arm around her back so she couldn’t escape. After a moment she gave in, and he stroked her back while he drew gently on her arm. The sweet sap in her vein flowed into him, warm and so full of life he could almost, for a moment, feel like he too flowed with that much life.

  Chapter Two

  Aspen sat silent in the car, her mind flitting like a busy butterfly here and there. Where was this strange Superior man taking her? He’d said back to the Confinement, but her mama always told her you couldn’t trust a Superior any more than you could trust a dog with rabies. Aspen wasn’t actually sure what rabies were, but she figured they were something pretty bad.

  “Please don’t kill me,” she said. She clamped her mouth shut to keep her desire to beg locked up tight.

  “I’m n
ot going to kill you,” the Superior said. He was smiling at the window, laughing at her actually. That made her mad. When he reached over and stroked her hair, she wanted to slap his hand away. Her sisters were all jealous of her hair. They all had dull hair the color of dirt, and her mama said hers was the color of the sun. She didn’t think all that was true, but it was the color of sand.

  “Here is what we’ll say,” the Superior said. She noticed that he had good hair too—the darkest brown, almost black, and it looked so soft she wanted to touch it back. But she was way too scared. “We’ll tell them that you were in a group being selected for restaurant work, and that you got lost. You’re just a kid, they’ll understand. I know the lady in charge up there, too, so I’ll make sure you don’t get sent back to the blood bank, yes? You just have to remember to say what I told you, if anyone asks. Can you remember that?”

  “Of course I can. I was being inspected and I ran off. I’m not stupid, you know.”

  He smiled again, and his eyes were so warm when he looked at her that she almost forgot how his touch had chilled her. It hadn’t been so bad when he bit her, not like she’d thought. Sometimes, at the Confinement, she’d hear people screaming at night, and crying after the Superiors left. It had hurt, but no worse than the donation she had to make at the Confinement every night. Well, maybe a little more, when he sucked. She’d thought it would be a lot worse and a lot scarier.