Beyond fate, there is choice
by Ainzfern
4
Dawn was little more than a thin shard of silver light across the far distant horizon. For this brief period of time, the streets and byways of Tanagura were strangely silent, despite the city's impressive population. The night-people had deserted their neon lit playground for yet another day, chased away by the slow illumination of the sky. Only a few of those who lived and worked within the daytime were as yet visible. The lower caste citizens. The ones who cleaned the city's streets, scrubbed it's floors and emptied its refuse... the ones, who in a very real sense, actually kept this vast community going, had already begun their day. For the most part, their tasks would all be done by the time the rest of the population began to stir from their slumbers.
But there were a few others, not amongst the dawn workers, who were awake as well.
High up in the residential levels of Eos Tower, behind a large window that overlooked the city-section of Midas, sat a stylish antique desk. Gradually, as the light of the dawn strengthened into morning a framed image-capture, carefully placed upon that desk, became clearly visible. It was photograph of a young man, an exquisitely beautiful young man; with deep red hair framing his flawless face and spilling softly over his shoulders. His huge eyes, the deepest truest green, were gazing at something out of shot. There was a slight smile curving his full and well-shaped lips, but at the same time, there was about his expression a certain poignant melancholy, a gentle wistfulness that caught at the heart.
In front of the image-capture, carefully laid upon the desktop and bound tightly with a length of black silk ribbon was a thick lock of auburn hair, its rich color seeming to glow even in the low light.
Slowly, almost reverently, long and elegant fingers reached out to stroke over the surface of the framed photograph. Fingertips, as gentle as a feather, traced the lines of the image, the jaw, the slender neck, the wealth of hair. After a moment, the strangely questing hand dropped to caress the satin-bound lock, a long index finger almost tenderly gliding the silk-soft length of it.
Sitting back with a deep sigh that seemed to come up from his very soul, a robe-clad Elite closed his sad and weary eyes for a moment, his normally smooth brow creasing with ancient pain and profound regret.
He was alone in the apartment, a fact for which he was very grateful. His small retinue of Pets and his Furniture now remained permanently at his house in Apathia. He did not want them here. His apartment in Eos Tower was his private place, his sanctuary. There were things here that they did not need to see, did not need to know about.
It was the same every morning, the Elite reflected to himself as he sat there, his eyes opening once more and his gaze inevitably returning to the photograph. This routine never altered. He did not sleep so well these days and towards morning, invariably he would awaken from his thin and uneasy repose to rise and leave his bedroom, padding through the empty apartment to take his place here.
To watch the sun rise upon Tian's perfect face once more.
And under his pain, under the dreadful almost unbearable weight of his regret and desolation, he could feel, growing within him still, the rage of the injustice of it all.
He had done the right thing. He knew that. He had taken the correct action. His love for Tian had been something that no Elite, no true Elite, would ever have contemplated consummating. He had exerted iron-clad control, his own unyielding strength of will, every single day that Tian had been a part of his household. He had remained remote from his desires. He had retained his dignity and his self-control. And his single concession to his Pet, his one act of humane affection, had been to painlessly take Tian's life, sparing him the cruelty of a slow and torturous death out in the dangerous and vicious streets of lower Midas.
He had been proud of his sacrifice. He had taken comfort from the fact that he had been able to reach a solution that, while infinitely painful to himself, was ultimately one that allowed him to remain true to his status and his station as part of the ruling class.
But then, only a few months after Tian had died, he had found out to his horror and dismay, that all of his efforts, all of his internalized struggling... Tian's death itself... had been completely unnecessary.
He had been made a fool of. They all, every Elite in the Syndicate, had been made fools of.
The others just couldn't see that. At least not yet.
But they would, he smiled to himself, a cold and vicious little smile, even as he reached out and touched his fingers to Tian's image once more. Oh yes... they would see soon enough how deeply their once proud and admirable leader had let them down.
It had been bad enough the day Iason Mink had tabled his Companion legislation. The pain that had speared through his heart when the details of the reform had been released had nearly brought him to his knees. But he had still, even then, been a loyal and dedicated subordinate to Iason's leadership. He had voted for the reforms with no hesitation. He had, quite naively in retrospect, simply assumed that he had been the unfortunate victim of nothing more than bad timing. He had even railed at himself, in private, for being so impetuous... for not having had the foresight to wait just three more months before deciding to deal with Tian.
And his regret had been vast. Overwhelming. The thought that he legally and within the new bounds of social acceptance, could have upgraded Tian's status and kept him forever.
Oh... it had hurt him.
But he had felt no hatred. At least, not then.
But then, he had begun to think upon the matter in more depth. He had begun to listen to the little rumors that endlessly flitted through the corridors and offices of Jupiter Tower and the elegant streets of Eos. Snatches of detail, delightfully scandalized comments, stories, too numerous and too similar, from far too many different sources, to be discounted as mere frippery.
And he had finally come to one single and undeniable conclusion...
Iason Mink, the golden-haired leader of the Syndicate, the uppermost ranked of the highest caste, Jupiter's first and most favored, had been sexually involved with his own Pet for years.
Iason Mink had been fucking his mongrel, every night of every day that he himself had been struggling to keep from succumbing to temptation. All that effort, the Elite thought, his breath beginning to deepen as anger and grief washed through him once more. All those years spent denying himself, and Iason Mink had been indulging in fleshly pleasures with his Pet.
A mongrel, no less... Not even an appropriately registered or bred Pet from the Academy, but a mere half-wild nonentity plucked from the filthy slums of Ceres.
And now Iason had his mongrel legally recognized as his life-Companion. Iason had his handsome young lover right by his side where he had obviously wanted him all along.
But for the Elite? He had nothing more than a single image capture, a lock of beautiful hair, and a deep hole of anger and hopeless despair that filled his soul to overflowing. Dark thoughts had begun to fill his mind. Questions rose within him, obsessive in their nature. Why? Why did he have to feel obligated to kill the one soul in the world that he loved in order to protect a rank that was as empty and as worthless as his own shattered heart?
There was nothing so painful, so maddening, he thought, as empty sacrifice.
But he had plans. Just as the dawn beyond his window grew with the potential of daylight, so too were his own plans reaching fruition.
He was close. Everything was almost in place. He had Iason's attention now, he knew that. Very soon he would make his next move and then the Blondie would have no choice but to come to him when he called.
Very soon, he thought again, a kind of exquisite satisfaction filling his chest.
He reached out one last time and pressed his fingertips to Tian's image. "Soon, Tian," he whispered tightly, his eyes filling with zeal and his heart beginning to pound, "it will all be over. You will have justice. I promise."
And once it was done, once Iason was dead, he was almost certain he would find his own peace once more.
The soft golden rays of the newly risen sun peeked almost shyly through the drawn bedroom blinds of Raoul's and Katze's apartment in Eos Tower. A single golden beam lanced in a perfect line across the bed, temporarily painting a golden wash over the rumpled sheets and thick down-filled comforter, both of which had been pushed rather haphazardly to the foot of the bed when the bed's occupants had risen to start their day.
The door to the master bathroom stood open, occasional wisps of steam misting out to dissipate into the slightly cooler air of the bedroom. In the spacious shower unit, his sleekly muscled shoulders pressed back against the tiled wall, and his shaking hands twining through a heavy mass of sodden dark-golden hair, Katze alternately gasped and groaned as Raoul Am worked his way down his neck and along one shoulder with a series of slow sucking kisses and sharp little bites.
Warm water, both soothing and renewing, sluiced over both their naked forms. Steam eddied and swirled around them, as Raoul straightened up once more to his full height; gripping Katze's jaw with one hand and getting a firm handful of toned butt cheek with the other while he descended to kiss his lover deeply, their skin sliding and cleaving as Katze's arms tightened around Raoul's powerful shoulders.
The loving was over for the morning. Raoul had woken Katze most pleasantly, by spooning up behind his slumbering form, carefully making the necessary preparations and then sliding deliciously inside him even before he'd fully awoken. In his half-waking state, Katze's orgasm had been a deep and unhurried kind of joy, pulsing sweetly up from his loins as Raoul had fucked him slowly and stroked him gently up to climax.
Now, Raoul just wanted to kiss him. Which, Katze had to admit, he was more than happy to encourage.
God, it was heaven, Katze's hazy mind mused as Raoul plunged his tongue past Katze's lips to run a sensual and leisurely inventory of his molars. He groaned again, a deep and needy sound that vibrated through both their chests. It was sheer heaven, having an Elite... this particular Elite, as a lover.
He had spent so much of his adult life alone and untouched. And it had become so during those days that his feelings of yearning, his loneliness, had been pushed aside for so long that he had hardly noticed the absence of such things. But now, having a literal surfeit of affection, both physical and emotional, heaped upon him by his subdermally passionate Companion, Katze finally understood just how skin-starved he had really been.
Slowly, almost regretfully, Raoul released him and shut off the water. They stepped out, drying off and dressing in companionable silence, Katze helping as always, to comb out the almost phenomenal mass of Raoul's mane of hair.
Making their way out into the main area of the apartment to be greeted politely by Raoul's Furniture, Mika, they took their usual seats at the table. Katze smiled, whimsically amused to see that Mika had not only laid out their breakfast, but had neatly placed both Raoul's morning messages and his own appointment diary beside each of their plates.
Acting almost unconsciously, Katze immediately opened his dairy, scanning the entries for the day, before looking up with a mild frown when Raoul leaned across the table and quite pointedly closed it again. "Hey. I was jus—"
Raoul splendid green eyes hardened a touch. "Katze?" he cut off the ex-Furniture's protest, a half amused, half deadly serious, look on his face.
"What?"
"Eat," Raoul answered firmly.
Heaving an amiable enough sigh, Katze picked up his fork. He began to chuckle softly as he started in on his breakfast, deeply amused by what a mother-hen Raoul Am could be at times. But, he did have to confess, Raoul had a point with his insistence of limiting the amount of work Katze could bring home with him. The truth was, left unchecked, and once he got going, Katze did have a tendency to forget about certain little things... Like food, sleep, and the fact that he had a partner. "Raoul?" he asked after a moment.
"Hmm?"
"Thanks."
With a slow smile curving his mouth, Raoul picked up his coffee and sipped it, a wealth of warmth and abiding affection reflecting from his deep green eyes. "Will you be late again this evening?"
Katze nodded, swallowing his previous bite of food. "Yeah. Upgrades are just about done across the whole floor, but there are still one or two independent units that need to be rerouted through the central server." He tilted his head slightly, "Why? Did you have something particular you wanted me home for? I can reschedule; you know it's no problem."
"No, that's not necessary." Raoul set his coffee down and selected a slice of fruit from his plate. "Actually, I plan to be putting some additional time in at the Bio-Lab myself, this evening."
"Well that works out, then," Katze raised an enquiring brow at the Blondie. "Late supper?"
"Of course."
"Good." Leaning forward slightly, Katze rested his elbows on the table, looking interestedly at Raoul. "So... I'm guessing the localized regenerative units are getting close to completion?" Katze was genuinely fascinated by Raoul's latest project, stemming from the success of the portable amniotic units; smaller modular versions, using the same amniotic technology, but for specific treatment of localized injuries and disfigurements. Designed to be applied directly to the affected area rather than requiring full-body immersion, the federation's security chief, General Grace, and the director of the health and medical ministries were already intensely interested.
"Indeed they are," Raoul's expression clearly showed his satisfaction with that fact. "In fact, your initial modifications to the monitoring systems really worked to put us ahead of schedule."
"Told you they would." Katze smirked fondly at him, sipping his coffee once more. "Well, fill me in. When do you expect the trials to start?"
Sitting in the warm morning sunshine that spilled through the window, listening at Raoul bought him up to speed on his latest medical advancement, his perfect face rightfully reflecting his pride in his team's efforts; Katze felt a genuine sense of contentment settle over him. Shortly, they would both head out to begin their own particular tasks for the day; there would be challenges to overcome, office and Syndicate politics to be dealt with and deadlines to meet.
But for now, in this moment, everything was pretty damned perfect.
The sun had fully risen over the Midas space port as the federation-class transport ship completed it taxi towards the main terminal and disembarked its passengers.
Standing at Iason's side in the VIP arrivals lounge, Riki felt a warm and welcoming grin rise in his face as Chey Neeson, his small federation retinue of staff behind him, stepped through into the lounge, raising a hand in greeting even as he strode towards them, a grin of his own clear on his handsome but somewhat travel weary face.
"Riki!" Chey greeted him expansively, taking his hand in firm grip and clasping his shoulder warmly for a moment. "How pleasant to see you again." He turned to Iason, reaching out to shake the Elite's hand warmly as well. "Iason," he nodded, smiling.
"Chey," Iason replied, in a voice that was as offhandedly casual as if he'd only just seen the man the day before, but Riki could tell, looking at those pale beautiful eyes, that the Elite was honestly gratified to see his federation friend once more.
Chuckling, Chey introduced his retinue before falling into step with Iason and Riki as they led him through the terminal to the exit, where Iason had arranged drivers for both minister and staff. "I have taken the liberty of arranging for your luggage to be portered directly to your rooms at Partia."
"That's fine." Chey nodded at him. "Thank you, Iason."
"And will you ride with us this morning?" Iason asked him, indicating the lead vehicle.
"Of course," Chey ducked into the open door of the car, settling into the rear-facing seat of the spacious interior and waiting until Riki and Iason were seated before speaking again. "I must say, I was a little surprised to find you two personally waiting at the terminus this morning." His smile turned slightly mischievous. "Makes me feel all sort of... valued."
Riki snorted gracelessly as Chey winked at him.
"Actually, Chey," Iason ventured, "I did want an opportunity to speak privately with you prior to your arrival in Partia," he held up one elegant hand as Chey's demeanor immediately grew serious and professionally alert once more. "It's nothing in relation to the trade conference. All is still going to proceed as planned, starting the day after tomorrow."
Chey nodded, his shrewd eyes closely watching Iason's face. "And our negotiation for the ongoing contracts on the Hepstra supplies is still scheduled for the second day?"
"It is."
Chey grinned suddenly, turning to Riki. "I tell you, Riki... I've actually bought a couple of new tricks along this time." He jerked his chin in Iason's direction, "I'll get that extra reserve point out of him yet, you mark my words."
Nodding, Riki glanced sideways, noting Iason's sardonically arched brow. "Hey, I have every faith in you, Chey," he lifted his hands in an open gesture. "Believe me."
Chey gave him a wry look. "I'm going to get my backside kicked again, aren't I?"
"Probably."
Looking back at Iason, Chey sobered a little once more. "All right, let's cut to the main point. What did you want to tell me?"
"You mentioned in your last communication to me that you were planning to seek out the head of the Syndicate's department of Arts and Antiquities," Iason replied.
Chey gave him an odd look. "Yes, I did. Your man comes very highly recommended from the scholarly circles."
"Oh, I'll just bet," Riki muttered, peripherally noticing Chey's sideway glance at him.
"Iason..." Chey frowned again, "is there some manner of problem with this Tahna Lam that I need to know about?"
"Yes, there is." Iason steepled his long fingers under his chin and regarded Chey steadily. "In all honesty, Tahna Lam has made as much a career out of being objectionable as he has out of his historical research and knowledge of antiquities. The only reason his character flaws are tolerated to this degree is that he actually is exceptionally good at his job."
"I see," Chey nodded slowly. "And, reading between the lines I am guessing that if he's unpleasant even to his Elite brethren, then his attitude to unenhanced humans is..?"
"Chey," Riki sat forward, a grim smile on his face. "There are things squashed onto the sole of your boot that can command more respect from Tahna Lam than you ever will. He's an arrogant pain in the ass, being blunt about it."
Iason lifted a wry brow. "I'm afraid I am unable to argue with Riki's observation."
As Riki had expected, Chey looked anything but concerned. Riki shared a brief glance with Iason as their friend sat back, relaxing and oozing confidence.
"You know something," Chey murmured thoughtfully, "I am actually more intrigued about this fellow now than I was before you mentioned all of this. I can't wait to meet him in person."
Iason signed softly, acceptance on his face. "We thought you might feel that way. However, I felt it prudent to at least warn you not to expect any manner of civilized welcome."
"Oh, I'm used to uncivilized welcomes, don't worry about that." Chey shrugged. "Besides, during my University tenure, I spent some considerable time studying ancient antiquities. Perhaps I can appeal to him from a scholastic point of view."
"We shall see," Iason replied in a noncommittal tone.
"I'll make arrangements to look him up as soon as I've settled into my rooms at Partia," Chey said firmly.
"As you wish." Setting his broad shoulders, Iason glanced once more at Riki, smiling slightly as the young mongrel nodded at him. "There is another matter that I would like to ask your opinion on, seeing as we have this opportunity."
"Oh yes?"
"Hmm," Iason's gaze grew very intense. "It is regarding recent criminal activity which would appear to have a specific ulterior motive. I was rather hopeful that you might be able to offer some independent theories from your own unique perspective."
Chey leaned forward, all previous traces of humor gone. "You sound quite troubled Iason," he noted softly. "Perhaps you should start from the beginning."
Stifling a worried sigh, Riki sat quietly and listened as intently as Chey was, while Iason recounted the events of each break-in. He couldn't exactly say why, but he was glad and relieved that his Blondie had decided to confide in Chey about the whole thing. Chey was a smart guy, that was no secret; but perhaps even more importantly, he was a true friend of Iason Mink's, someone who wouldn't be even remotely interested in exploiting any information Iason would share with him. True, Iason also had the unquestioned support of Raoul Am... But Riki still kind of liked the idea of more than just one influential individual standing in his lover's corner.
As the sleek vehicle they were in purred its way closer to Partia, Riki reflected upon the genuine good fortune both he and Iason had encountered the day that Chey Neeson of the federation first arrived on Amoi.
So strange and interesting, the quirks of fate, Riki had to confess; smiling a little as that thought crossed his mind.
Especially in his life...