Inherent Cost

by Alicia Cameron

  The inspector came back just moments after Jere walked out of the exam room. Wren had to hold back a laugh at the inspector’s confused look—Jere was smiling, a dazed and sated look on his face.

  “I had a great lunch,” Jere mentioned, trying to be casual. The inspector just nodded.

  They finished at the clinic and discussed the plans for Isis and Jere to go to Redmont. Wren filled both Jere and Isis in on some of the real-life details of the certification. He had been through the process only once; Burghe would have needed to re-certify him again soon if he hadn’t died when he did. Orders were given to the master, who then passed them on to the slave, and both were rated on their ability to perform as expected.

  For Wren, it had been simple; he had been fresh from the training facility and desperate to please, still idealistic and hoping to make a good impression on his new master. He had received a spectacular rating, nearly perfect, but the fact that it was only nearly perfect had earned him a beating that had him coughing up blood for days until his master had finally decided to heal the broken ribs. Wren didn’t mention that part, because he didn’t want to dwell on it, nor did he want to scare Isis or Jere any more than necessary. They discussed a plan for training—both for Isis, and for Jere. Wren just hoped that it would be enough.

  Chapter 12

  Training Tools

  “Let’s do this training thing,” Isis suggested, almost immediately after they were finished working. “I want to see what’s so bad about it. I mean, I’ve been a slave forever, I’m sure I can pass.”

  Wren sighed. He doubted that there was any truth to that statement, and while it was nice to see the girl optimistic about something, he wasn’t looking forward to the resulting upset that it would cause.

  “All right,” he said, figuring he would at least give her a chance. “Here are the rules. From this point on, there will be no questions, comments, outbursts, whining or yelling from you. You will answer Jere only, and you will do it in a respectful way, like you were taught to do at some point. Know what I’m talking about?”

  Isis didn’t answer, she just narrowed her eyebrows at him suspiciously. It was a trick they were both familiar with, being asked a question that wasn’t intended to be answered. He wanted to kick himself for forgetting his own rules so quickly.

  “Um, babe, you ask her,” Wren mumbled.

  Jere looked as awkward as Wren felt, and he turned to Isis with a shrug. “Uh... do you know what Wren’s talking about?”

  “Yeah, I think,” Isis shrugged.

  Wren smiled. Maybe more of a hands-on demonstration would work. “The correct answer to that would have been ‘yes, master,’ or ‘no, master,’ not ‘yeah.’ Clear, concise, use the title.”

  Isis nodded, looking focused on those three things. Wren was just glad that she wasn’t upset already.

  “Okay, Jere, your rules are a little different. No please, no thank you, and be clear. It’s easier for her to follow orders if you give them clearly; don’t leave it up to her to guess, because she could guess wrong, which would cause problems.”

  “I can’t even be polite about it?” Jere complained.

  “No. We have enough eyes on us already. You have no problem being blunt and offensive to enforcement agents, other professionals, and every other free person you come into contact with. It doesn’t add up for you to be polite to your property.”

  Wren felt a little guilty, but the fact that Isis smiled made it a little better. At least someone could enjoy this, and Jere really did need to practice better habits regarding slave-owning.

  “Here’s a list of things I want you to do with her,” Wren said, handing Jere a piece of paper. He had written it up in a few seconds at the clinic, thinking of the certification he had gone through years ago. “Any mistakes from either of you and we start over. We do it until you both go through the entire thing right, then we’ll do something else tomorrow.”

  Isis pulled back a few inches in her chair, wrapping her arms around herself and eyeing Wren and Jere suspiciously.

  “What are you going to do with me?” she asked, her voice on the edge of panic. “Jere, please—”

  “I wouldn’t tell him to do anything that would hurt you,” Wren cut her off before she could panic herself further. “You know me that well, and you know Jere well enough to trust that he wouldn’t do it even if I told him to. Some of the things he’ll ask you to do will be a little physically challenging, like kneeling for a period of time, and a lot will be unusual or frustrating, but I promise, nothing is going to hurt you.”

  Isis took a deep breath before nodding.

  “Rules back in effect. Show us what you’ve got.”

  As predicted, the first few tasks went well. Jere had Isis stand, kneel, stand again, walk across the room, and kneel for a while longer. Easy things that Isis was able to accomplish without hesitation. Wren wasn’t yet looking for perfection; poor posture, hesitation, questioning looks, those could all be smoothed out later. For now, it was enough to see her reply to direct orders without showing attitude.

  The next order wasn’t as direct, though, and even Jere looked at him questioningly.

  “Read what it says. It’s on there for a reason.” He felt bad, making Jere do this, but Jere had to be able to do things like this without looking like he was about to cry. It wasn’t Jere who would be hurt the most if he failed.

  “Stand,” Jere ordered.

  The second Isis rose to her feet, waiting for the next order, Jere frowned at her. It was fake, and so was his next statement, but he did his best.

  “I didn’t tell you to get up!”

  “You did so! I just heard—”

  “Failed.” Wren announced, not surprised at all. He had put the conflicting order in to catch Isis off-guard, because he knew she couldn’t resist arguing.

  “But I did it right!” Isis snapped, looking furious.

  “You’re not supposed to argue,” Jere cut in, his voice carrying the guilt that Wren could feel bleeding over the mind connection.

  “I don’t care, I did it right and you know it!” Isis snapped back, growing angrier.

  “Isis, if he says he didn’t tell you to do something, you don’t argue with him, you apologize and get back to position immediately,” Wren explained, trying to keep his voice calm. “You did exactly what he said, but the real test was whether you’d fight back or not when he corrected you.”

  Isis turned red, clenching her fists and glaring. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” she muttered. “Who the hell puts something like that in there—what, did you want me to fail?”

  “Isis, I know you know how to stand and walk and all that stupid shit. I know it as well as you do, but I also know that you have a hell of a temper. That will fail you. I’m trying to prepare you, and I need you to be aware of things like this so you can learn from them. I never said this would be easy.”

  “Fine. Whatever you say. Let’s start again.” Isis wouldn’t look at him, wouldn’t even look at Jere, she just looked at the floor.

  Jere looked helplessly at him, and Wren shrugged.

  “From the start, then,” Wren cued, and Jere began going through the script a second time.

  Isis managed to do as asked, but her movements were wrong. Her attitude was clearly off, and “walk” became “stomp,” “kneel” became “flop on the floor,” and “yes, master,” sounded more like “go to hell.” Still, Wren didn’t stop, because this was only the first day, and from the way it looked, there were going to be more days like this.

  Jere got to “I didn’t tell you to get up!” again, looking nervous as he waited for Isis to respond.

  She dropped to her knees again, more slowly than she should have, and muttered, “Sorry, master,” as sarcastically as possible, glaring down at the floor.

  Jere looked to Wren again, shaking his head. “This is too much!”

  “Jere, just do it! You both need to be ready. We’ll see how she is after today.”

  J
ere gritted his teeth and rose to his feet. “Sorry isn’t good enough, slave!”

  Before Jere or Wren could get a word out, Isis scrambled to her feet and bolted, running to her room and slamming the door before locking it. It was silent for a few minutes before the muffled sobs and pounding started up.

  Jere looked at Wren, hurt. “Why?”

  “Because she needs to learn not to do that,” Wren answered. “I don’t like it any more than you do, but if she’s going to pass this certification, she’s going to need to be able to avoid doing things like that, and you’re going to need to play your part more convincingly. She obviously failed, but you didn’t do much better.”

  “Can’t I just say I’m lenient?” Jere half-begged. “That I’m a stupid outlander who lets the little things slide and says please and thank you but still is in control?”

  “Only if you want to look like an outlander who just had his right to own slaves revoked,” Wren reminded him. “This is serious. If you don’t want to do it, don’t challenge it. Stay here where it’s safe. And hope for a miracle during the audit.”

  Jere sighed. “You’re right. I’m sorry.”

  “Then get this to work. I’ll work on a few more lists. Once you guys get through this one successfully, you’ll need different things to practice with. They’ll get harder, and I’ll find more things to pick apart. You both need to be ready.”

  Jere nodded. As silent as he was, Wren could tell that he was upset, but he was fairly confident that he wasn’t what Jere was upset with. Jere wasn’t upset with Isis, either, and Wren doubted Isis was too upset with either one of them. Jere was upset at slavery, Isis was upset at herself, and there was nothing that anyone could do about either of those things. They could fix the performance, though, and that was what Wren concentrated on.

  Jere waited a few hours before approaching Isis. The pounding on the walls had stopped, but the telltale sounds of movement let him know she was awake.

  “Isis?” He knocked at her door. “Can I talk to you, please?”

  Jere knew Isis liked time to think before answering. He waited for nearly two minutes before hearing an answer, just long enough to make him consider knocking again.

  “Are you mad at me?” she asked, sounding like she was far from the door.

  “Not a bit. Wren isn’t either. What we were doing earlier, it wasn’t real. I wasn’t really mad at you.”

  When she replied again, she sounded closer to the door. “Not even for running away and hiding like I did?”

  “No,” Jere said. “Not even for that. And I think it was too much to ask for the first day.”

  The lock clicked, and the door opened. “What about Wren?”

  Jere followed Isis back into her room, taking a seat in a chair while Isis sat on her bed, looking nervous. “Wren said that you and I both have a lot to learn. He’s not mad at you, but he doesn’t think he’s asking too much.”

  “Does he really think I can do it?” Isis asked, looking surprised.

  “I suppose so.” Jere realized that he was underestimating the girl. “It’s not that I don’t think you can, I just thought it might have been a little too much all at once. If he had asked me, which he didn’t, I would have suggested that he start slowly, let you build up to the harder parts. But Wren wants you completely perfect by the time we go for the certification, and you know how he gets about things being perfect.”

  “Yeah,” Isis managed a weak smile. “I just didn’t think you were going to scare me like that. You don’t yell at me like that, or talk to me like that. I don’t like it.”

  “I know,” Jere agreed. “Believe me, I don’t, either. But part of this is getting you prepared for new things that make you scared, or unhappy, or angry, and you have to stay in control when it happens. I will give you my word that I’m not going to lay a hand on you, but that’s all I can promise, all right? That, and my word that I won’t be upset with you after we finish. Ever. No matter how well or how poorly you do. We’re just acting. We have to convince them.”

  Isis nodded. “Do you think I could stop, like if I wanted a break, or if I needed to calm down?”

  Jere shook his head, feeling terrible. “You won’t be able to stop at the certification. Besides, some of the things Wren has for us to do are kind of... interlinked, I guess you’d say. Like a puzzle.”

  “Like a chain,” Isis muttered, frowning at the image.

  “All right, if you’d rather that,” Jere agreed, smiling at her. “I know this is hard for you. But I think you can do it, and so does Wren, and we want to see you succeed.”

  “I know.”

  “If it makes you feel better, Wren says I did just as poorly as you,” Jere said.

  Isis smiled. “He’d be perfect at either role.”

  “So will we, once we practice,” Jere reminded her. “We can do this if we work hard enough.”

  Isis nodded. “Tomorrow? I don’t think I’ll do much better again today. Give me until tomorrow to calm down.”

  Jere nodded. He saw no reason to rush; they had a while before they were planning to leave. He was confident in their abilities, and he liked the idea of learning something new. It kept his mind off of other things, the secrets he knew he should have disclosed already.

  After a week of training, the results were abysmal. Wren was displeased to realize that Jere and Isis had only made it through two of the scripts he had given them, and even those were lacking. The harder he pushed, the worse Isis became, and sometimes she just flat refused. Jere made the mistake of trying to cajole her into doing it, which caused a screaming match and a new hole in the wall. It had been months since that had happened, and Jere tried to pressure Wren to call the whole thing off.

  Wren reminded him that they couldn’t call the audit off as easily as the certification. She needed to figure out a way to behave, and Jere had to figure out a way to help her. If either of them failed, all three of them would suffer. Even more, Isis had a much stronger motivator—the family she had longed to see for so long.

  He took Isis aside while Jere was working.

  “I know you’re capable of this. You and Jere both. You weren’t a few months ago, and Jere wasn’t a few years ago. But you both are, now. I’m not giving up on either of you.”

  Isis gave Wren a skeptical look. “I fuck everything up.”

  “No, just things you’re scared of,” Wren replied. “Look, everyone’s safety depends on this. If I thought you’d fuck it up for sure, I’d be telling him the best ways to incapacitate you for the audit. But I don’t. I think you can do it right. Not just to keep us safe, but to see your parents. You want to see them, right? You talk about it all the time. I know it’s important to you.”

  Isis scowled at him for a moment, but she nodded. “I don’t want them to see me lose it like this, but I do want to see them.”

  “Then let me help you and Jere get where you need to be.”

  Isis looked scared, but relieved. “If you think I can do it, you’re probably right.”

  She and Jere kept trying, but the progress was slow and terrible. Worse was the way that Isis was starting to flinch around the house, cringing when Jere raised his voice, or when someone came too close to her. She was on edge and it showed. It was hard to watch someone who had come so far revert back to such a bad place so quickly. As hard a time as she was having acting like a slave during training, she had just as much difficulty acting like the calm, friendly girl that had become a functioning part of their lives.

  Wren decided that an extra training tool was necessary. He took one of the pre-filled passes from the drawer in the kitchen, told Jere he was going out for “supplies,” and carefully made his purchase. The owner of the slave supply store gave him a strange look, but all the merchants around town knew him well enough by now not to question his purchases. Jere was good for the money, and he never questioned any expenditures that his slaves made.

  He returned home quickly, leaving his new purchase in the bag and si
tting it on the empty chair next to where he usually sat and observed the training sessions. He finished the workday as usual and tried to relax before training time started.

  Isis was too nervous and so was Jere; they had both come to dread the process so much that it was ruining their evenings. Wren decided to move onto his plan quickly.

  “So, things aren’t going well,” he broke the news. He figured it was his duty to do it, since he was the one orchestrating everything. It wasn’t a surprise, but Jere and Isis both looked dejected.

  “I’m really trying,” Isis protested, her voice becoming shrill immediately. It happened more and more often lately, the shrillness, the protests.

  Wren nodded at her. “I know. I know you’re trying, and I know Jere’s trying, but honestly... I don’t think it’s quite working out. We have a little over a week before the certification and I wouldn’t let either of you go right now. It’s too dangerous. There needs to be better progress.”

  Isis blinked hard, looking away. Jere looked at him with pleading eyes again, and Wren could almost hear him begging Wren to lighten up, to give her another chance.

  “I bought something today, something I think will help,” Wren said, pulling the bag from the chair where it had sat, conveniently hidden by the table. “Here.”

  He slid the bag across the table at Isis, who flinched away, but reached out and took it suspiciously.

  “What is it?”

  “Open it,” Wren suggested. “See for yourself.”

  Isis opened it tentatively, freezing when she saw what was inside. She glared at Wren before reaching her hand into the bag to pull out the collar he had purchased at the slave supply store.

  Jere gasped, looking at Wren in shock. Isis just sat there holding it.

  Wren started to explain. “I thought—”

  The collar flew across the room and crashed into the wall. Isis said nothing, but looked down at the table, shaking in rage and probably terror. Wren understood, he would have been equally appalled, but he had his reasons. He hoped that Isis and Jere would be able to understand them, if not agree with them.