The journey itself, is freedom
by Ainzfern
The soul of a journey is liberty, perfect liberty, to think, feel, and do just as one pleases
– William Hazlitt
1
Under the setting sun of Tanagura's late afternoon, a sleek Syndicate registered vehicle weaved its way skillfully through the thinning traffic. In the driver's seat, his long fingers tapping in time atop the steering wheel with his soft and somewhat tuneless humming, Katze almost absently pitched his finished cigarette out of the window, flicked the signal indicator on and smoothly merged onto the off-ramp that would take him to Jupiter Tower.
Pulling into the basement lot and parking in his usual designated spot, Katze smiled as he shouldered his work satchel and climbed out of the car, heading swiftly towards the lifts. He gave the Syndicate guard on duty just outside the reinforced glass doors of the lift well a congenial nod, even as he swiped his access pass over the ID scanner and stepped inside to summon the lift down. A brief ironic huff of laughter came from his chest while he waited, although there was little humor it.
There never used to be a guard posted down here.
Shaking his head, Katze stepped through the opening lift door and punched the button for the executive office level. The guard on duty was a little leftover from his unfortunate abduction by Blaine Dal several months ago. Iason Mink had never actually stated that this was the reason for allocating a permanent security post down in the basement, but Katze had no illusions. Elites were seldom caught by the same mistake twice, and the presence of security in places formerly devoid of it was just one of quite a few small but significant changes that had been implemented in the days following Blaine Dal's death.
For the most part, such changes to the Syndicate's operations didn't really affect Katze one way or the other. His adjustments in the wake of his abduction were much more personal.
Katze rolled his shoulders gently as the lift smoothly ascended, carefully working the muscles. In all honesty, he actually felt pretty good today. Not too tired at all considering that it was the end of the working week, and he was glad of it. When he was physically weary, when the tension of fatigue seeped into his body, the shoulder that Blaine had damaged during one of Katze's confrontations with the Platina could be quite troublesome, even painful. A hot shower and Raoul's strong fingers usually took care of that, but it was nice to know that tonight wasn't going to be one of those nights where he needed such measures. He had to admit, he wasn't as young as he used to be, and although he was in reasonable shape and intended to stay that way, he found that his body was taking a bit longer to bounce back.
Inevitable really; Katze snorted with amusement as he stepped out of the lift and into the elegantly appointed main lobby of the executive level. The infinite resilience of his youth was more than a few years behind him now.
Still, for all of that – Katze's smile returned as he headed down the wide corridor towards Raoul's office, he felt refreshed enough even after his full day. His main focus for the day had been a complete software upgrade on the core systems at the Syndicate munitions plant on the outskirts of Tanagura. Considering the scope of the project, the whole thing had gone remarkably well, and ahead of schedule, which Katze definitely approved of. The techs working at the plant had approached the challenge with an undeniably military efficiency, getting everything ready for the Syndicate's chief IT trouble-shooter and then keeping out of his way once he arrived to launch himself immediately into the task.
Katze had thanked them quite profusely for that at the end, because it really did help when the on-staff techs didn't help... in a manner of speaking.
Entering the anteroom of Raoul's office, Katze slipped his work satchel off his shoulder with a sigh, holding it loosely by the strap. He paused for a moment in the threshold of inner office, leaning against the doorframe, his expression softening as he watched his Blondie, oblivious for the moment to his presence, working intently through a pile of hard-copy documents on his desk. As a rule, Raoul Am wasn't present at Jupiter Tower all that often, preferring the more stimulating surrounds of his state of the art bio-lab in Midas. However, there were times when Raoul simply had to attend his formal office to deal with the more mundane administrational tasks that came with being the second in command of the Tanagura Syndicate.
Today was one of those times. Katze's smile bloomed into a full grin as he recalled Raoul's almost mournful expression over breakfast while they had shared their daily plans with each other.
He really was exceptionally beautiful, Katze thought, even with that irritated little crease between his eyebrows. Tall, as all Elite's were, with broad shoulders and a lean elegantly proportioned body. He had the most beautiful hands, capable of immense strength but only ever used with grace and precision – especially when handling his mongrel. His mass of hair, a deeper shade of gold than most Blondies, fell in luxurious waves across his shoulders, framing a face of such exquisitely flawless perfection that it still took Katze's breath away.
And then of course, there were those eyes, the most strikingly deep emerald green that Katze had ever seen, in nature or anywhere else; mirrors to his mate's soul, showing to those closest to him the true depths of emotion that a life-time of control had enabled him to keep from his expressions. But Katze knew him well. No matter how magnificently composed Raoul Am might be externally, Katze had come to know, and sincerely appreciate, the sheer sub-dermal passion of the man. Even if, as in recent times, those powerfully felt emotions made things somewhat difficult at times.
Katze sighed again; nodding as Raoul heard the soft sound looked up, a welcoming smile on his face, and a certain lessening of tension in his gaze. Straightening up, Katze walked across the spacious office towards his Companion, unsurprised to see the tiniest flash of relief cross that beautiful face as Raoul pushed back from his desk, rising to greet him.
Every time, Katze mused ruefully, even as he rounded the aide of Raoul's desk and stepped into the Elite's gentle embrace. He saw that same fleeting expression of relief on Raoul's face every time he returned to the Blondie's side after being away from him, even for the shortest period.
And he supposed he couldn't blame Raoul for feeling anxious over any kind of separation. He now knew, although it had taken several weeks of delicate but persistent probing on his part to get Raoul to talk about it, just how agonized, how deeply and profoundly terrified for him Raoul had been during those painful hours of Katze's kidnapping. And, he supposed, he would have felt the same damned way.
But initially, it had worried Katze a little, knowing that Raoul had been affected to such an extent, knowing that the man still carried that fear around inside him, even months after the event. But little things helped, Katze had discovered. Because Katze loved him and had become very receptive to his emotional state, he made extra efforts to consider Raoul's feelings in their day to day lives. He knew that, being brutally honest about it; his Blondie would much prefer never to let Katze out of his sight again... so he did what he could to limit the strain, allowing Raoul to recover his equilibrium in slow and steady steps.
Every morning, without fail, Katze shared his day's schedule with his lover, never making a big issue out of it, but ensuring that Raoul would know the where's and when's of his day. If a change of plan occurred Katze let him know in every instance, no matter how minor a change it might be.
Simple things, yes, but nevertheless incredibly important.
And it was working. The tendency towards over-protectiveness that Raoul had displayed in the first few weeks after getting Katze back had lessened as the weeks had become months. As for himself? His own residual after-effects... the odd nightmare and the occasional twinges of discomfort from healed injuries? Well, they were fading too.
Time, really. Katze gave a little mental shrug, pressing his lips to the warm softness of Raoul's rich mouth. Time was all it took, and they certainly had plenty of that.
"You're early," Raoul noted as Katze's lips brushed his.
"I know. Great, isn't it?" Leaning back a little, Katze met Raoul's gaze and grinned at him, "Ready to go?" he asked softly.
Casting a wry glance down at his desk-top, Raoul nodded. "As a matter of fact, I am," he declared firmly in his deep velvet voice, splendid eyes twinkling for all that his face remained quite serious. "You timing, as it turned out, was impeccable. And I must confess I am most thankful to be leaving this particular undertaking behind me."
"Boring, huh?" Katze nodded at the neat stack of reports on Raoul's desk.
"Beyond tedious." With an urbane hand to his elbow, Raoul lead him from the office and through the anteroom. "I was tasked by Iason to review a submission from the department of public works concerning a reorganization of the Tanagura transport network."
Katze winced as they neared the lifts. "Y'know it still seems kind of extraordinary to me," he mused softly, "that even as the 2IC of the Syndicate, you still have to troll through that kind of stuff. I guess it's not something that I would have expected you'd need to do."
Raoul's expression was patient as he lifted one broad shoulder. "Such things must be overseen by someone, Katze," he replied. His expression grew vaguely smug. "Besides, it could have been much worse."
"Oh?"
"Hmm." Deep green eyes flashed with mildly wicked mirth. "Iason got lumbered with a submission concerning the infrastructure of Tanagura's refuse management system."
Katze snorted gracelessly. "Oh, now that does sound torturous. I'm surprised Iason didn't try to swap with you."
Raoul's full lips twitched slightly. "He did," he murmured, his gaze filled with humor.
Katze laughed aloud at the very mental image of Iason Mink, head of the Tanagura Syndicate, perfect face devoid on all expression but his pale eyes vaguely hopeful, trying to foist the crappy job off onto a subordinate that was far too shrewd, and knew him far too well, to fall for it.
Elites... Still chuckling, Katze leaned into Raoul's solid warmth as the lift descended back to the basement.
They really were much funnier than they would care to admit.
"Here's a thought though," Katze composed himself as they exited the main building into the lot and headed towards his car, lifting his keys and pressing the infra-red to unlock the doors. "We're having dinner with Iason and Riki tonight, right?"
"As always for the week's end, yes," Raoul answered as he slid gracefully into the passenger seat alongside Katze. "Why do you ask?"
"Oh, no reason, really." Starting the engine and reversing out of his spot with practiced ease, Katze winked at him. "Just watch out for Iason spiking your drink in revenge, that's all I'm saying."
Relaxing back into his seat, Raoul's eyes warmed with fond amusement. "Iason would never stoop to such methods as drink-spiking Katze," he replied reasonably. One elegant brow twitched slightly. "My food, possibly... but never my wine."
Katze snickered all the way out of the lot.
In a small but scrupulously neat office located along a short corridor leading off from the main archive room of Tanagura's city archive and records centre, a young and quite astonishingly lovely young man vented a soft sigh of satisfaction as he completed his duties for the day. Pushing one thick lock of soft brown shoulder-length back behind his ear, Esra, the city archive's most recent employee and newly registered Companion to the Elite known as Laron Tak, placed his completed documents into the 'out-tray' for collection and scanning, then stood and began neatening his desk in preparation for leaving for the day.
Outside, beyond the main archive room, the soft echo of happy voices engaged in light banter and good-natured workmate teasing filtered back to him. Pausing in his task for a moment, Esra tilted his head and listened, smiling sadly for a moment before resuming his seat and waiting until the 'official' end of his day had come.
He had about ten minutes or so before Laron's, or more accurately he supposed, Laron's and his, Furniture, Kalad, arrived to collect him. The rest of the staff at the city archives had knocked off some few moments ago, just after the main doors had been closed and locked, and were enjoying their usual end of week social drink in the staff lounge prior to heading home.
Esra would not be joining them.
Esra had not joined them since his first week working at the archives, where his single attempt to be included in the socializing of the citizen staff could only be described as 'abortive'.
It wasn't that they were rude or even particularly unkind. Esra, despite what he might have been in the past, was now the mate of an Elite, and nobody in their right mind wanted to risk any Elite's fury. But the reality was that Esra had been a Pet. It was fact, out in the open, not hidden from anyone. The citizen staff just didn't seem to know what to say to him, how to deal with him. He made them uncomfortable, even embarrassed, he could see that clearly enough.
He supposed that when they looked at him, all they could really see was his past. The Pet parties, the absolute sexual subjugation of his self and his body for the voyeuristic pleasure of the Elites that had owned him and his kind.
Not that he'd actually been put on public display very much by Laron at all, even once he had reached the age where such activities would have been deemed utterly appropriate. Laron had also owned an older pair of quite beautiful Pets, Kati and Dahn, both of whom had proven to be very popular performers. And it was this pair that usually walked out onto the dais during the Pet shows. When it came to his youngest Pet, Laron seemed to prefer to keep Esra more for the company than the entertainment; although in the privacy of his grand home in Apathia, the dignified and quietly spoken Sapphire Elite had often enjoyed observing Esra stimulating himself to climax while he sipped sweet wine and urged the young Pet on with softly murmured words of encouragement.
And, more often than not, because they were usually alone during those times, and because there really seemed no harm in such things; when Esra had finished his performance Laron would take the young Pet onto his lap and just hold him closely for a long time. He would stroke his hair, while Esra trembled down from his orgasm and into post-climax lassitude, and that seemed to him to be the nicest thing of all, just that closeness and hearing Laron's heart beating as he rested his head against the Elite's solid chest.
It was a private thing between the two of them. Esra had always known that. He'd never spoken of it, not even to Kati or Dahn, and he'd heard more than enough from his friends within the ranks of Pets that he had socialized with to know that such things were not the norm between Pets and masters.
And Esra believed that it was during those moments, during such a simple act as being close to each other for a while, that the seeds of what would eventually become love had been planted.
But Esra's days of performing as a Pet, either in public or private, were in the past. Laron had promised him that things would change once he signed the Companion contract, and his former master had been true to his word.
In the week following the registration of their new status as Companions, Laron had arranged a meeting for him with an ageing and kindly upper-class Midas citizen called Sami, the head supervisor of the Tanagura city archives. It wasn't unusual for Pets of the Elite to be well-read and educated by the Academy that bred and raised them, and Esra was smarter than most, for all that he was of a retiring nature.
During the interview, which Sami had respectfully requested be between him and Esra alone, the grey-haired gentlemen had quietly but quite firmly told him that, while Laron had secured the interview; it would be Esra's task to secure the actual job.
Which he had. With flying colors.
He had been here, working part time in the archives as a cataloguing clerk for just on four months now. He did sincerely enjoy the work. Not only did he have that curiously satisfying knowledge that he was earning his own money, but the role he did involved quiet and studious rather meticulous work which stimulated his mind and his surprisingly sharp eye for detail.
He'd been quite delighted to discover that, despite being genetically bred and designed to serve as nothing more than a rich Elite's ornament, he actually did have quite a capable mind. He loved what he was doing, and took a genuine pride in making sure it was accurate and consistent.
He had hoped, perhaps naively in retrospect, that with time would come acceptance. That the rest of the staff would get used to him, would come to see that he really wasn't that much different from them.
But it hadn't happened. At least not yet.
The sole exception to this rule was Sami himself, who had taken a shine to the young ex-Pet from the first day. Part of it was undoubtedly that Esra was actually very good at his job. His error rate was marginal to non-existent, and he worked quickly and efficiently, with little fuss and next to no supervision. But Esra also liked to think that Sami might have allowed himself to like Esra as he was now, that he had managed to separate the past from the present and had taken Esra at face value.
Either way, Esra was very glad to find that the one person that he worked more or less consistently with in the city archives, was also the one person who didn't simply prefer to avoid him.
"Esra?" Almost as if summoned by his thoughts, Sami poked his silver-haired head around Esra's office door.
Looking up from his desk, his large and expressive brown eyes alight with friendship, Esra smiled, waiting patiently.
Sami grinned back at him. "Your ride's here."
"Thank you." Rising gracefully, Esra gathered his belongings. Turning to his boss, he glanced at his 'out' tray, before nodding at Sami. "I've finished the last files you gave me. They're all there," he indicted the tray with one slender hand, "Alpha-numeric order, just as you wanted."
"Ah. Already?" Sami blinked, looking pleased, "Well, I wasn't expecting that lot to be done until next week but, good job on getting ahead of it." His smile grew almost apologetic as Esra approached him. "There's quite a bit more to go on that particular section, I'm afraid."
Esra shrugged, amiably enough. "I thought there would be."
Chuckling, Sami rested one hand on Esra's shoulder for a moment. "C'mon. I'll walk you out."
Nodding once more, Esra fell into step with the older man as they exited the short corridor and crossed the main archive floor. It was a familiar routine by now. Esra wondered if Sami even consciously thought about it anymore but, his supervisor had now made it a habit to walk Esra out of the building every afternoon.
Esra knew why, although he never mentioned it. It was because in order to get the main doors, Esra had to walk past the staff lounge. The dozen or so workers mingling within the room would invariably fall silent as he passed by, shooting little glances, some pitying, some almost condescending, at him as he went by. At first he'd made a point of stopping to wish them a good evening. He didn't bother anymore. Aside from a few awkward mumbles or a distant glance or two, Esra had never really gotten much of response. He knew that Sami felt bad when such things happened, so the kindly elder citizen had made a point of seeing Esra off himself each day.
As usual, as he and Sami passed by the open staff lunge door, the volume within dropped until he passed on, only rising again once he was near the main doors. He heard Sami heave a vaguely irritated sigh and he turned, lifting his slender shoulders in another brief shrug. "It's alright, you know," he assured the older man softly.
And it was. It really was. Certainly it would have been nice to be accepted by his new peers, but in the greater scheme of things, the very fact that he was now a Companion, that an Elite, his Elite, loved him enough to want him forever... there was a joy in that which no amount of cold-shoulders could ever take away.
Sami, however, seemed to think differently. "No, Esra," he said quietly but firmly, "it's not." His mouth thinned into a hard line. "I've given a lot of thought to what's been happening around here since you joined us, and I can only come up with one conclusion." He looked grimly across at the staff lounge door for a moment. "It's shame, Esra, that's what it is. They don't want to face it, but that doesn't make it untrue."
Esra stared at him in confusion.
Seeing his look, Sami's expression softened. "Having you here, Esra, makes Pets people, do you understand? For all of their lives they've known about Pets, been aware of why they were bred, what they were for... maybe they even fantasized about getting enough money together to own one. But now, with you being here, a real live feeling thinking human being, they don't have the luxury of believing the Pets are just... just things, do you follow me? They've been accepting a culture where actual people, with able minds and feelings as real as their own have been treated worse than animals."
Esra nodded slowly, clarity forming in his mind as he took in Sami's dark expression. "You've felt this way for a long time, haven't you?"
"Well, yes, I won't lie about it," Sami pulled a little face at him, lifting his hands helplessly. "But... not that long ago, a citizen didn't even dream about openly criticizing the Elite. Not if he wanted to keep his place in society."
"It wouldn't have been safe."
"No. No it wouldn't have been." He gave himself a little shake and smiled then, relaxing once more. "But things have changed. That much is evident." He grinned, gesturing at Esra. "Just look at you, for a start... proof of progress if ever I saw it."
"It's funny," Esra frowned at the floor for a moment, biting gently at his lower lip. "But I wish that we – I mean Pets – had known about people like you back then." He sighed softly. "I think it would have made things a bit easier."
"Oh Esra," Sami's eyes filled with compassion.
Noting his distress, Esra shook his head. "Please, don't get me wrong. Laron was always kind to us, and always so good to me. But, it's just that I knew of other Pets... I heard things..." He trailed off, a tiny wince crossing his beautiful face. "Not everyone was so lucky."
"I think Iason Mink stepped in not a moment too soon, personally," Sami noted.
"Hmm," Esra glanced back at the staff lounge once more. "It'll take time, though."
Looking somberly at him, Sami reached out and patted his shoulder once more. "They'll come around, Esra. You'll see."
Meeting his kindly eyes with a deeply weary gaze, Esra nodded. "I'm sure you're right." He reached out and unlocked the door, pulling it open. "But... It's not going to be today." As he stepped through into the cool air of the late afternoon, he looked over his shoulder and smiled once more. "Have a nice evening, Sami."
Sami dipped his head, the little gesture oddly filled with respect. "You too, young man. You too."
As the door closed behind him, Esra breathed a deep lungful of sweet air, raising one hand and acknowledging Kalad, who was standing patiently by Laron Tak's sleek car, waiting to take Esra home.