by Shelly Crane
I cringed. Traitor!
She gasped softly. He touched her cheek before turning and leaving her there, stupefied. I still couldn’t see her face.
That was something the Elites called their mistresses and wives. A lot of people didn’t bother with getting wedded anymore. They saw it as a useless Old-World tradition. But there were a lot of people in the stacks who still honored it.
We would see Congress parading their trophy women through Congress Hall where they sat up top during the meetings. They would kiss their cheeks and call them My Sweet. It was a very powerful term of endearment and Ivan had just ruined it for me. Now she was going to think I was a freak for calling her that, one, and two, I wasn’t going to be able to keep saying it without her thinking I was a psycho.
I sighed and put on my game face as I rounded the corner at regular speed so she wouldn’t know I was dropping eaves. She looked startled when she saw me, but I didn’t give her a chance to say anything.
“Ready to go?”
She nodded quickly. “Yeah,” she breathed.
I squinted and went fishing a little. “Everything okay? You look…pale.”
She cleared her throat and straightened. “I’m fine. Let’s go.”
I said my goodbyes to Ivan, giving him a big, hard hug. He whispered to keep her safe and I leaned away, confused by his words. Ivan and my mother both were worried about her more than they were worried about me. I would have laughed, but something told me there wasn’t anything funny about it.
On our way out, she stopped in front of a watch and picked it up. She opened her mouth to ask him something, but Ivan said, “Take it.”
“But—”
“Take it.”
She nodded slowly, her brow bunched in confusion, and put it in her bag on her shoulder. Ivan closed the door, putting the glamour of the mechanical invisibility back once again. I looked both ways outside his store to make sure no one was looking or watching for us, and looked at Ivan over my shoulder once more.
“Remember what I said, Sophelia,” he said to her, but he was looking at me. “Take care of him. Take care of each other. You’re all you’ve got now.”
I swallowed hard, noticing how I was doing that a lot lately, and grabbed Sophelia’s hand before slipping out the door as casually as any customer would.
**
Chapter Eleven
slave - a person who is the legal property of another, as stated by the laws of the government. They are forced to obey them and usually worked excessively long and hard, and without payment.
Sophelia
Things changed when we left his family’s hideout. I had heard him talking to Ivan, that old man, about how he had messed things up with me so badly that there was no chance, that there was no way that I would want him. Would he even want me to want him or was he just stating facts, having some kind of male conversation?
Since then, he had been different.
He held doors for me, made sure he always went first when we staked out a new area, talked to me as we went to sleep about everything and nothing, just like he had at his mother’s house, and he always made sure to get some new food that he said he wanted me to try. He watched me take bites, like they mattered, like he truly wanted to see if I enjoyed it or not and how much.
Why would he do that unless he…
But how could I let myself continue with that line of thinking? I was a slave and would always be one to some degree, because you were what people saw you as. Perception was everything, wasn’t it? And that fact would never change no matter how badly I wanted it to.
The first day after we left was spent pretty quietly. I was turning everything I had just absorbed around in my brain when I felt him tap me on the shoulder. When I looked he stared straight ahead but ticked his head to the right. I looked over on the sidewalk and saw a vendor with a box of puppies. The only dog that was still being manufactured for production was the English Mastiff. It was determined to be most docile breed yet big enough to not cause problems and could take care of itself. We’d seen pictures of some of the animals that used to live on Earth and there were so many different animals that they didn’t bring with them during the Exodus. This was not some Noah’s Ark situation—thanks, Mom, for Bible lesson—there were very few animals on our planet at all and of the ones that were here, most of them had been genetically altered or spliced, or even mechanically enhanced.
But the Mastiff remained an untouched, adorable, fat little ball of fur that I could never and would never be able to afford the taxes to own one. But to see if the vendor would let me hold one? I’d ask.
Because I’d never seen puppies in real life before.
And they were causing my heart to become all warm and fuzzy just by looking at them.
Puppies had been deemed completely useless, but good for the mental health of its owner and even people in the general vicinity of one, therefore, it was spared from processing. My guess? The mistresses of Congress wanted a puppy and told their men to make it so.
I must have gasped or grinned or did some other equally embarrassing, girly thing because Maxton grinned back at me before taking my hand in his and tugging me over to the other side of the street to the vendor. The puppy’s cute little whines and the way they tilted their heads could almost distract me from how warm Maxton’s hand was.
We weren’t the only ones looking at them, naturally. I told Maxton we didn’t have to wait around, we could just go, but he crossed his arms and looked around the people in front of us as they poked their fingers in the holographic cage’s two small openings, which were left unprotected for food, I assumed, and egged the dogs on, which earned them a stern glare and a loud, “Don’t poke at the dogs. How would you like it if someone poked you, eh?”
Maxton snorted a laugh as the guy poked the man in his ribs, which prompted him to hastily move along, muttering. We got up to the cages and all I could do was stare. I heard Maxton talking to the him before I saw the man reach through the cage’s holographic barrier, the chip in his arm allowing him to pass without a zap to his skin, and took out the one closest to him. He handed the dog roughly to Maxton, who turned to me to let me look into big, chocolate brown eyes that begged me to buy him and save him.
Maxton held the puppy out for me to take, which I did, and I couldn’t stop my giggle as the dog’s wet, cold snout nuzzled into my neck. When I looked up at Maxton again, he was watching me, his mouth relaxed enough to have his lips parted, his eyes half closed but alert. When he saw that I’d seen him and was watching him back, he just smiled slowly before taking a step closer. With the puppy between us, there wasn’t much room for anything else. He put his hand on the wall beside my head. It was a completely different feeling than it had been when he’d done it in his mother’s house, when he’d been angry, when he thought that I was about to run out and betray him.
He leaned down, bending his head over the puppy on my chest to see his face. Our heads touched, but he pretended not to notice. Or maybe that had been his intention.
I felt like I was being chased, without the option of knowing what game I was playing, without being able to be the loser or winner. It made me nervous the way I felt around him, the way he looked at me as if he was beginning to understand something that had, until then, been a mystery.
I didn’t know if these were good or bad things, but if I was going on my gut alone, which my mother always said was best, then I liked being chased. In fact, I wanted to slow down to make sure that he caught me.
But then other times I would think about the absurdity that he would be chasing me. Why would he? Who was I? I was nobody, I belonged nowhere, a slave, and my fate rested in the hands of this treacherous planet’s worst. Why did I think I was worth his affection for even a second?
I felt his thumb rubbing between my eyebrows and jolted, my gaze flying to his. His voice was colored with concern as he said, “Now how can you have that look on your face when you’re holding that adorable furball?” When I sa
id nothing, just continued to stare down at the puppy while I rubbed his head, he said, “What were you thinking about?”
“Nothing,” I said quickly.
“Uh huh. I believe you as much as I believe that puppy’s not completely in love with you right now.” I looked down further to see his eyes closed. I rubbed behind his ear and he groaned, making us both laugh. Then he opened his eyes and just stared up at me—again with the begging.
“You can add one more name to the list of people who find you fascinating.”
I rolled my eyes with a laugh and acted like I hadn’t gotten his implication. “He is not a person.”
He laughed silently before nodding once. “Touché.”
“Where did you imagine you would live?” I blurted out. I shook my head a little. “I mean before you started your job and all. When you were little, where did you want to live, where did you see yourself, what did you want to do?”
He seemed more than a little taken aback by my question, but proceeded with a quiet, cautious answer. “I always wanted to live in the valley.” I felt my eyebrows rise. “Surprising? My family always thought so, too. But I would have loved that. Way out there, in the middle of nowhere, no one around, no techs, no Militia, nobody to tell me what I can and can’t do on my own property. It would be like Earth’s early settlers. I think I would have liked that. I could have made a trip to the city once a month. It would be great. Or…I could have lived on the cruise ship. I would have liked that, too.”
“So…” I grinned, “either total isolation or so many people crammed into a cruise ship on the Red Sea that you can barely think in peace.”
He nodded. “Yeah. That about sums it up. You remember what I told you, from my dad; life would be a big, awesome journey or it would be nothing at all.” He smiled and it was so completely genuine that I was jealous.
“I love that quote, saying, whatever it’s called.”
He rubbed the puppy’s ear and said, “It’s Helen Keller. You heard of her?” I shook my head. “She was deaf and blind.” I felt my eyes bulge and he nodded. “Yeah. She was a total badas—I mean. Totally awesome.” I felt my smile coming on. “I don’t remember the actual quote, but it’s along those lines. My dad loved to tell us about amazing people and the things they did. He loved Earth’s history. He loved…” His smile turned sadder, his eyes casting down, his lips quirked up on one side. “He loved anyone who had a story to tell, that could teach us something. And he was so forgiving and easygoing. He said that people don’t make mistakes, they just make a learning curve for everybody else.”
I laughed a little, laughing even more when the puppy squeaked in protest at being jiggled around.
“Your dad and my mom should have met. They would have gotten along. She was such a…saint,” I finally muttered when I couldn’t come up with a word big enough to describe her.
“I bet she was. I bet she was amazing,” he told me pointedly, his gaze burning the side of my face with its heat. I caved and looked up at him, biting my lip. “And then she had you. Amazing people generally make more amazing people,” he joked and winked cheekily.
I nudged his stomach with my elbow. “That’s not even a remotely true statement.”
“I know,” he sighed, feigning dramatic sadness. Then he leaned down to catch my eyes again. “But she did have an amazing daughter.”
“And your dad had an awfully altruistic son.”
That took the wind out of his sails. He leaned back a little, his smile fading. “I’m not sure what my dad would think of me if he were still alive.” He scoffed. “If he were still alive, I wouldn’t be a black market trader. I’d be a…petting zoo attendant.” Neither one of us laughed. “I wish he were here though. I’d love to talk to him right now, even if he would be disappointed in the man I’ve become.”
I paused and then jumped into the abyss of no return. I took his hand from the puppy’s head, entwining it in mine, our fingers interlocking like they knew the way to go all by themselves.
“You don’t need to be forgiven by your dad,” I said softly. “I think he’d be really proud of the way you’ve taken care of your family. And complete strangers who did nothing to deserve it, even though it might have cost you…a lot.”
His breathing was a little ragged as he sucked in breaths through his mouth, his eyes wide, his head right above mine just inches away as his eyes stayed on mine, sinking right into that abyss with me. “Thank you, Soph. You don’t know what that means to me.”
I squeezed his hand, pulling away gently, and looked back at the puppy. The air between us was too charged. I smirked down at the dog. “We’ll name you Mr. Fluffles. You may only be named Mr. Fluffles for a few minutes, but it’s—”
“Hold up,” Maxton said, holding his hand up, his lip twitching as he tried to remain serious. “No, no, no. The guy can’t be named Mr. Fluffles. Let him keep his manhood.”
I laughed with a scoff. “He likes Mr. Fluffles!” I looked at my new little friend. “Don’t you, buddy? Tell him you want to be Mr. Fluffles.”
“Oh, for the love of everything sacred and good,” the vendor muttered off to the side and glared at us. “Shut up, the both of you. It’s a female. No Mr. Fluffles, no Spike, no Killer, no Ringo, no Yoda. Her name is Fifi. Now pet her and shut up or be off with you.”
Maxton and I both looked at each other and erupted into hushed laughter over the puppy’s head. He quickly put his arm around my back and turned us to face the other way when we got another glare. “Shh, shh,” he coaxed, even as he kept silently laughing. His head tilted to look at the pup. “Well, Fifi, I guess you’re pretty cute.”
“She’s adorable. I’ve always wanted one, just like every other person on this planet, but you can’t always have what you want, can you?”
Another heated, charged silence ensued where I refused to meet his gaze before he said, “No, you can’t.”
I involuntarily inhaled sharply and glanced at him because his voice has changed so quickly. It was low and rough. I didn’t know what that meant, but it did things to my lungs apparently because it was harder to breathe.
Someone came up behind us and asked to hold one of the puppies. The vendor told them no, they could only buy it.
I shot my gaze to Maxton, but he was busy avoiding my gaze for once as he scratched under Fifi’s chin.
“Okay, time’s up.”
“All right, just one second, please,” I replied to the vendor’s barked order.
I lifted the puppy up so I could see her face. “I’d love to rescue you, but this is a trip you can’t come on, even if I did have the silver to pay for you.” And that soured my stomach at hearing that. This puppy will be sold just like I was sold. Like a slave. “Someone awesome is going to buy you and take you home. They’re going to have lots of kids to play with and lots of red dirt to run around in. No granite streets for you.”
I nuzzled her nose before handing her over to Maxton, who was watching me with a little smile tipping up the corner of his lips. He took her and told her, “What she said. Thanks for hanging out with us, Fifi.”
He passed the dog over to the vendor and then surprised me by putting his arm around my back and directing me out into the street. I wasn’t sure if I was giddy or not. My gut was swarming. But then he leaned down and pressed his mouth to my ear.
“Militia, six o’clock.” I blinked up at him. He hadn’t wanted to touch me; he’d been trying to maneuver me. Made more sense. I was chagrined about the odd sting that settled in my chest that he hadn’t just been trying to get close to me. He took my blinking as confusion over what he was saying. “Six o’clock means over there.” He pointed discreetly.
“I know.”
No, I didn’t know anything. I’d never been so confused in my life.
He kept glancing back until he said we were in the clear and removed his arm from around me. More confusion took hold of me. So he had been doing it just because of the Militia. But then why had he taken the time to stop
and show me the dog? Then I remembered something else and it caused even more chaos in my head.
“How much did it cost you for me to hold that puppy?”
He didn’t look at me as he said, “Don’t worry about it. Besides I’d pay it ten times over to see you be that happy again. Even if it was just for a few minutes.”
My carefully held-in-place shield started to crack. I felt it in my chest like a block of ice as it split down the middle, revealing my heart and leaving me unprotected. I was as afraid as I was excited. It felt like at any moment someone could stick their hands in my armor and pull apart the pieces.
**
Two days later and the days had moved almost exactly the same, sans puppy. We walked all day except to stop for a little bit to eat. And at night we found a nice warm roof to sleep on and drifted to sleep too exhausted to do anything else.
I had known the long walk would be grueling, but walking all day just felt like you were getting nowhere, especially with the railway above your head, going at all hours of the day, just taunting you because you can’t take a ride.
That night we were debating on where to sleep since it had begun to rain. Rainwater was red when it fell from the sky because it was pulled from the Red Sea. It didn’t hurt you to get wet from it, but it was cold and…it was red. Nobody wanted to sleep in cold, red water all night.
We had chosen two buildings and were discussing which building would be better. Both seemed to be abandoned, which meant the owner couldn’t pay their taxes and Congress hadn’t repurposed it yet, but they would. When you were sent for processing, whatever you owned, if anything, now belonged to the government. Including your children…
