by L. S. O'Dea
“Why?” asked Jethro.
Why indeed? Benedictine watched the professor closely.
The professor didn’t even blink. “I plan on reuniting her with her mother and father.”
Liar. Her father was dead and her mother was with Hugh, unless he’d turned her over to Conguise. Jethro looked at him. He shrugged. He may not side with Conguise, but he wasn’t going to call him out either, at least not before the surgery.
“If that’s true, why does she have to be caged? Why can’t she be a guest here?”
He and the professor both chuckled.
“A guest?” asked the professor. “A Producer, a guest of an Almighty?”
“I don’t see the problem.” Jethro crossed his arms over his chest, his chin jutting out stubbornly.
“I see your father didn’t raise you with the proper belief in class,” said the professor, raising a brow at Benedictine.
“I most certainly did. Young people get thoughts in their head at no fault of their parents.” His father had not allowed him to even speak with the Guards and House Servants, but his father had not been able to stop him from following the other creatures around and pestering them. He’d been lonely as a boy and had wished that they’d play with him. As he grew, he’d realized that they were too different. “These thoughts go away with age and experience.”
The professor shrugged and looked at his watch.
He took the hint. “Jethro, we’re done discussing this. The Producer will go with the professor. Once you can walk, you’ll forget all about her.”
“Then I don’t want the surgery.”
“You don’t mean that.” He stood, leaning his hands on the desk.
“I do,” said Jethro, glaring at him.
The boy couldn’t be that stupid. That stubborn. “Leave,” he shouted.
“You can’t force me to have the surgery. I won’t agree to it, unless you let her go.” He rolled out of the room, slamming the door behind him.
Benedictine dropped back into his chair, exhaustion sweeping through his body. What was he going to do? What was he going to tell Martha?
“Children,” said the professor in exasperation. “I’m glad my daughter is raised.” He picked up the bottle and poured some more into Benedictine’s glass.
He nodded numbly. Jethro would continue to refuse the surgery. It was written all over the boy’s face. The child was too young to understand that this chance would never come again.
“Don’t worry. I’ll perform the surgery. He didn’t mean it,” said the professor.
“Of course, he didn’t.” At least the professor was still willing. He would explain to Jethro, convince him to change his mind. He took a swallow of his drink
“You know,” said the professor. “He could have an infatuation with the Producer.”
“What? No.” That wasn’t possible. Not his son. A Producer was…different. Simple. Lesser. He’d raised his children better than that.
“I’ve seen it happen before between the classes,” prodded the professor.
“Not my son. Not my family.” He slammed his fist on his desk. He would not allow that shame to fall on them.
The professor held up his hand. “Okay, okay. However, I’d keep an eye on things if I were you. Cross class attraction is unhealthy.”
“And illegal,” he added.
“Well, they look the other way as long as it’s all in fun. I don’t agree with it though. I think it should be punished to the full extent of the law.”
“Here, here.” He raised his glass and took another drink.
“He hasn’t been told the purpose of a Producer?” asked the professor.
“No, not yet.” It was a hard concept. When his father had told him and then had showed him the camps, it had seemed wrong. They were friendly, unassuming creatures. Then his father had explained that it was the price they paid for their care. Eventually, he’d understood.
“I think, that perhaps, the time for this is upon you,” suggested the professor.
“Let him have his innocence a little longer. He’ll have to learn soon enough, since he’s to take over my businesses, but not yet.”
“May I make a suggestion, one father to another?” The professor steepled his fingers.
He nodded and took another drink. He doubted that he could stop the man. The other Almighty seemed to believe he knew everything.
“With the attitude that your son displayed, he is in need of a lesson. He needs to understand what it means to be an Almighty. Perhaps, you should use this opportunity to show him his place in society,” said the professor.
Jethro did need to learn that Almightys were above the others. He’d been too soft on his children. Initially, he’d let them establish relationships with the Guards because Guards were better protectors if they cared for their masters, but, maybe it had gone too far. He had his suspicions about Jackson’s feelings for Kim. He’d seen the Guard stare at her a little too long on several occasions, but he trusted his children. No, Jethro would grow up soon enough. There was no need to tell him right now, especially since he had an attachment to a Producer.
“No. Later,” he said with conviction. “There is time.”
“I disagree. Children have become weak minded due to the coddling of parents. They must learn what being an Almighty really means.”
“With all due respect, Professor, he is my son and I will decide when he is ready for life’s lessons.”
“Of course. My apologies, if I’ve overstepped.” The professor stood. “On a more pleasant topic, I think that after the surgery we should have a party to celebrate Jethro’s recovery. Invite all your friends and a few young girls and boys.”
“A party would be a good idea.” Young people his age. That was exactly what Jethro needed. It would help him to forget about the Producer.
“Perfect. I’ll arrange everything and let you know when to come to my house,” said the professor.
“We should have it here.” He stood and held up his hand to stop the professor’s protest. “No, I insist. That way, Jethro can rest if he needs to. Plus, you’ve already done so much for us. I can’t let you do this too.”
The professor studied him and then smiled. “Okay, but I insist on planning everything. That way, your lovely wife won’t have to worry about anything but enjoying herself and as I said, I’m something of a genius in the kitchen.”
A party was a lot of work, and Martha was already distracted over the surgery. “Agreed. Thank you.”
“Bring Jethro to my place this evening for the surgery.”
“Tonight?” Jethro was stubborn. How was he going to convince the boy to go through with the surgery this quickly?
“I see no reason to wait,” said the professor.
“Of course. I’ll have the Producer sent to your home after Jethro can walk.”
“I planned on taking her today.”
“No. The last time that I let a Producer go on only a promise, I had to make another deal. This time, I will receive my part of the bargain first.”
The professor’s eyes narrowed but he bowed his head slightly. “I’ll perform the surgery and then you’ll deliver the Producer.”
“After Jethro can walk,” he clarified.
“Tomorrow morning, then,” said the professor.
“That soon? There’s no recovery time? What about the incision?” This was all happening so fast.
“This is a non-invasive surgery,” said the professor.
“On his spine?” he asked in disbelief.
“Trust me. The procedure itself is simple. The science behind it is complex.”
“Unbelievable. My son will be walking by tomorrow.” He couldn’t suppress a grin.
“I’ll send Guards to escort the Producer to my house tomorrow morning. We shall have the party tomorrow night. Send out your invitations.” The professor walked to the door and stopped. “If Jethro continues to refuse the surgery, I still expect the Producer handed over to me.”
/> “He’ll have the surgery.” He didn’t know how he’d get the boy to change his mind, but he would. His son was not going to throw his life away over a Producer.
“I will need to put him under for the surgery,” said the professor.
“Of course,” he said, not really listening as his mind raced through scenarios to change his son’s mind.
“If you like, I can send over the medication that I would use for that purpose. You could administer it here if he gives you any problems.”
His mind screeched to a halt. Drug his son? Could he do it? Given the time frame, did he have a choice?
“Should I send the medication over?”
He nodded. He was going to drug his son. The alcohol sat heavy in his stomach.
“You’ll need to bring him over immediately after he takes it. The trip to my house is about forty-five minutes. I have his age and weight, so I can make it strong enough to last twelve plus hours. That should cover the trip and the surgery.”
“How will I give it to him?” He could not be having this conversation. What if something went wrong?
“I prefer the needle, but I can send you the oral form. It will be easier to administer on an unwilling patient.”
“How?” His voice was softer than a whisper as if afraid to be heard.
“Slip it into his drink,” said the professor.
He nodded, unable to speak.
The professor clapped his hands together, the sound reverberating through the still room. “Great. I’ll send it over with some Guards. Give it to him with his dinner and then bring him to me. He’ll be drowsy after a few moments.”
“Dinner? You want him to eat before surgery?”
“Yes. As I said, this is non-invasive. Food in his stomach will actually help.” The professor turned and headed for the door. “Don’t forget about the party. Tomorrow night.” He left.
He swirled the bourbon in his glass and set it on the desk unfinished. “Martha,” he called out. “I have good news.” He tried to make his voice upbeat.
CHAPTER 30
JACKSON WAS LOUNGING in the chair across the room from Trinity when Jethro came back into the barn. The Producer had been withdrawn ever since the boy’s departure. By the look on Jethro’s face, he wasn’t bringing her good news. The boy stopped in front of the cage, his lap loaded with blankets and pillows. She stood and walked over to him.
“Jackson, open the cage,” said Jethro.
“You know I can’t do that.” Poor kid. First crushes were never easy, but this one was going to be brutal.
“I need to give her the blankets,” said Jethro, his tone sharp.
Really? He strolled over to them, barely limping since his nap. He was thankful that he still healed quickly. The older they got, the slower the healing process. He grabbed a blanket off Jethro’s lap and shoved it through the bars of the cage, waving it about. She took it, placing it on the floor. He cocked his eyebrow at the boy. The kid would have to come up with something better than that to trick him into opening the cage.
Jethro face was hard with anger, but he picked up another blanket and pushed it through the bars. “In case you get cold.”
“Thank you,” she said softly as she took it from his grasp.
When all the blankets were in the cage, Jethro stared down at his empty lap. “My father is being difficult.”
“It’s okay. Thanks for trying.” She tried to smile but her lips quivered instead.
She must have harbored some hope that Jethro would be successful. Jackson looked away. If he didn’t distance himself, he’d tell her that he was going to help her to escape and he couldn’t risk anyone knowing until it was time.
“I will get you out of here,” said Jethro. “I’ll convince Dad to change his mind.”
The boy was not making it easier for her by giving her false hope. “Your father isn’t—”
“Mind your own business,” said Jethro.
He bowed his head and walked back to the chair. The kid was setting himself and her up for more disappointment. He knew all about yearning for something that could never be. It’d been better when he’d thought Kim hated him. At least then he hadn’t wondered what it could be like for them. Like these two, there was no hope for him and Kim. Even when he turned Trinity over to Hugh, there was no place in this world for an Almighty and a Producer. Jethro didn’t understand that now, but he would.
She reached through the bars and took Jethro’s hand. “It means a lot to me that you tried. Not many would try to help a…someone like me.”
“Someone like you? Anyone with half a brain would want to help you. You’re perfect and I’m…” He looked at his legs.
Jackson stifled a groan. The boy’s got it bad.
She squatted so that they were face to face. “Perfect.” She touched his cheek. “Look at me.”
Jackson’s chest tightened. Did she really like Jethro or was she just being kind? Either way, his respect for the young Producer increased.
Jethro raised his head.
“Your chair doesn’t matter to me.”
“It should. If I were whole, I’d be able to get you out of here.” Jethro moved his head away from her touch.
“No. This has nothing to do with you not being able to walk. My friends…they were very strong. They couldn’t save me either. I ended up hurting them,” she whispered, pulling her hand back inside the cage.
Jackson pretended disinterest as he played solitaire, but he caught every word. She’d basically admitted that the Handler and Tracker were her friends. How did something like that happen?
“It is not supposed to be like this. We were not supposed to meet and then have you end up in a cage.” Jethro grabbed her wrist.
The cage was the least of her worries. Benedictine should tell his son the truth. It was going to crush the boy, especially now that he’d met a Producer, a young, attractive, female Producer, but it was better than having false hope.
“Jethro.” Kim and Viola burst into the barn, four Guards on their heels.
“What are you doing here?” Jackson jumped to his feet, knocking the chair over in the process. Kim was not going to be happy to see him.
“Me? What are you still doing here?” Kim stormed over to him. “I don’t know why I’m surprised. He’s going to kill you one day and yet, you do nothing.” She shoved him.
“Ouch.” He rubbed his chest. “You hit the cut.”
“Call off your Guards.” She motioned to the four Guards who stood nervously looking to him for guidance.
He grabbed her arm and led her aside. “You’re not supposed to be in here.” He glanced at the Guards. “You put them in a difficult position when you disobey your father. They can’t follow their orders because they dare not touch you.”
She looked at his hand on her arm. “And yet, you do.”
His eyes narrowed and for a second he leaned closer to remind her of last night, and then he dropped his hold and stepped back. He faced the Guards. “It’s okay. You can leave. I’ll handle this.”
Kim smirked and walked over to her brother. She smiled sadly at Trinity. “I guess they caught you.”
Kim knew Trinity too? Jackson almost threw up his hands in disbelief. Was there anyone who wasn’t this Producer’s friend?
“What do you want?” asked Jethro.
“Mom sent for me. She’s worried sick,” said Kim. “You can’t be this stupid.”
“It isn’t stupid.” Jethro crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back in the wheelchair.
Kim gently cuffed the side of her brother’s head. “Stop being an idiot.” She glanced at Trinity and then back to Jethro. “No matter what, Dad is going to have to hand…pay Professor Conguise. The only thing you are changing by refusing to have the surgery is whether you can walk or not.”
Jackson walked over to the chair, righted it and sat down. The kid didn’t know his father well if he thought Benedictine would allow Jethro to refuse surgery. The Almighty was a force to
be reckoned with when he desired something. On the plus side, their discord would make his task of sneaking Trinity out easier.
“They can fix you so you can walk?” Trinity smiled, her eyes bright. “That’s great. I’m so happy for you.”
“I’m not having the surgery.” Jethro grabbed her hand through the bars.
Kim looked at their clasped hands and then to Viola and Jackson, concern on her face.
He shrugged. Was she surprised? She shouldn’t be. This was the only young female who had given Jethro the time of day in the boy’s entire life. Did Benedictine realize that his only son was attracted to a Producer and his daughter to a Guard? He wished he could be the one to tell Benedictine. It would kill the Almighty. Who was he kidding? It would just hurry along his and Trinity’s demise. Benedictine would never allow his children to be with someone from another class.
“Why?” asked Trinity.
“Go ahead. Explain it to her,” said Kim, in a tone reserved for older sisters.
“It’s complicated,” said Jethro.
“No, it’s not.” Kim crossed her arms over her chest, tapping her foot. “I’ll give you to the count—”
“Shut up,” warned Jethro.
“Will someone please tell me?” Trinity looked from Jethro to Kim.
Jethro remained silent, glaring at his sister.
Kim huffed. “You are the payment for Jethro’s surgery.”
“What? I don’t understand.” Trinity took a small step back, breaking her contact with Jethro.
That makes two of us. Jackson crossed his legs at his ankles. It seemed even she had no idea why she was so popular.
“My father wants you. He’s agreed to operate on Jethro only if”—Viola nodded at Kim and Jethro—“their father delivers you to him.”
“Why?” Trinity glanced at each of them.
He held his breath, waiting for Viola’s answer.
“I don’t know,” said Viola, averting her eyes.
Viola was hiding something. He’d bet his life that she knew what was so special about this Producer.
“Can we give your father a different Producer?” asked Kim. “Dad has plenty in the encampments.” She glanced at Trinity and blushed.
