The journey itself, is freedom
by Ainzfern
21
It had to be said, as they strode together along the upper balcony that circled the grand function hall of the Midas Museum of History, that Tahna Lam and Laron Tak made an undeniably striking picture. Both were tall and poised with the elegantly long yet balanced proportions typical to the Amoian Elites. Broad shouldered and lean through the flanks they were without doubt beautifully put together, with generations of carefully controlled selection and exquisitely delicate genetic enhancements ultimately resulting in the pinnacle of physical form that they currently enjoyed. They moved with unconscious grace, at ease with their bodies, as magnificently confident in their physical capabilities as they were with their superior mental acumen.
Elites... dark or light, they were utterly stunning to look at.
Of course, Tahna Lam reflected silently as he neared the grand exit to the function hall with the Sapphire at his side, it was not the physical appearance of the man that he was at all interested in. What Tahna was looking for was some manner of tangible evidence that Laron Tak would be able to handle the challenges of being a minor albeit talented administrative manager one week, and the head of a multi-sectioned Syndicate department the next.
So far, Tahna had to admit it was looking very... encouraging.
Laron had listened attentively as Tahna had overviewed his department structure, the current works in progress, the events scheduling and the budgetary restrictions, many of which he hoped to loosen with the additional funding coming in from his secondment to Elldaren Prime University. To his carefully hidden delight, Laron had cut right to the fundamentals with his questions, wanting to know about the actual day to day logistics, the reporting lines, levels of delegation and authority that he might be able to call upon and, of course, Tahna's long and short term expectations.
In addition, although their introduction had consisted mostly of Quinn stuttering and dropping things while Laron looked askance at him as if trying to puzzle out what manner of creature he was, the Sapphire had refrained from any overtly negative comment and even indicated that he was amendable to Tahna's suggestion that he would have to trust, indeed heavily rely upon, Tahna's current P.A. Naturally, the nervous little man would be a relatively vital key in the success of the Sapphire's secondment as department head, having worked with Tahna Lam for so long, and gotten so good at pre-empting his preferences and thoughts that he could virtually construct a full season of events and programs without a smidge of supervision.
But it was when Laron began to muse about the possibilities of making his own mark on the job, of using his own high levels of technical ability to enhance or improve some of the administrational processes, that Tahna had actually began to relax and suggested the brief respite of a tour through the museum, which they were currently finishing with right now.
It appeared that Laron Tak would be more than capable of running the department as a whole from an overseer's point of view; easily managing the high level directing, the auditing, the funding allocations and staffing issues, while Quinn continued to coordinate the arts and history programs from the hub of the department, Tahna's beloved Midas Museum of History. Functions, promotions and festivals, according to Laron, they would obviously work on together seconding various department sub-section managers or staff to assist as required.
As far as Sir Tahna of Amoi was concerned, this was more than satisfactory.
"I must tell you, Sir Tahna," Laron was saying as they crossed the final few feet towards the grand entrance that would lead them back to the main lobby of the museum and beyond that, Tahna's office, "I am even more impressed with the variety and exquisiteness of your current displays than I was the very first time I toured this venue."
Tahna flashed a sly little smirk at him. "And quite a significant amount of incident has passed between then and now." He lifted one artfully blasé shoulder. "Not withstanding airborne salads, of course."
"Yes. Well," Laron had the good grace to look at least the tiniest bit apologetic. "I have a much more fulsome perspective upon that particular night, Sir Tahna. I now understand that your remarks were not wholly intended to attack Esra."
"Of course not," Tahna shot him a haughty little look as he led the way across the lobby and towards the corridor that branched off to his office. "After all, where would the fun have been in that? Needling an opponent who was not allowed to bite back?" he wrinkled his perfect nose and shook his head. "No, I much preferred your memorably spirited reply."
"And accurate aim, yes?"
"Hmm," Tahna subjected him to a slow stare, his eyes narrowing. "You keep up that kind of impertinence, Laron... and you're going to do very well indeed."
The Sapphire inclined his head, his deep blue eyes sparkling.
"Now," Tahna continued as they entered his office. "Among the more mundane logistics is the question of where you should establish your base of operations."
"I had wondered about that myself."
"Yes," Tahna took his usual seat behind his desk, gesturing for Laron to take the chair opposite. "Naturally both my office at Jupiter Tower, and this one here in the museum, will be at your disposal." He tapped a long and elegant finger against his lips in a pensive sort of way, "but I really must recommend to you, Laron, the notion of running your central office from here. I myself was never present at Jupiter Tower unless no other choice availed itself to me."
Laron sat forward a little, clear curiosity written large upon his flawless face. "I had also wondered about that, just in passing."
Tossing his hair back with an irritated little jerk of his chin, Tahna lifted one broad shoulder. "In all honesty, I only ever found Jupiter Tower to be a congenial place of work when none of my peers were actually there." His beautiful eyes flashed cold fire for a moment. "And I should imagine, Laron, that you will probably discover the very same thing for yourself within a short enough time span."
Laron nodded with a certain fatalism. "Because I am a Sapphire?" he mused aloud.
"Yes and no," Tahna replied softly. "Mostly it will be because you are different. In my case, it was my unusual character, I suppose. In yours, it will indeed be your caste. You'll be the first Sapphire to do this, Laron. Because of that, you will face resistance." He smiled grimly. "Of course it's not all bad news. I can assure you that you will have the support of Iason Mink himself and that of Raoul Am. Being that they are the two most senior members of the Syndicate, that is a significant amount of power you will have standing in your corner."
Tahna noted Laron's jaw hardening a touch, a glint of steel entering his eyes. "Well, with the support of the Syndicate leader and his second," the Sapphire said firmly, "I really am not pre-disposed to be too concerned with the small minded opinions of those who would doubt me due to my caste alone, no matter how vocal they might be."
As much as he could relate to Laron's feelings and even admire the grit of the man, Tahna could also speak from years of experience. Sometimes, the Blondie had to admit, discretion was the better part of valor, especially when it allowed for one to direct one's energies to far more rewarding pursuits.
Such as baiting those very same critics in the public arena... That was always a good one.
"I actually empathize with you, Laron," he held up one hand in a calming gesture, "I truly do, but trust me when I tell you that such constant disparagement, regardless of how elegantly you disdain it, will bleed you of your energy. Believe me, that is not what you want. You will need every ounce of vitality to make your posting a success, and I think you know this." He smiled slyly. "Plus, I probably don't need to tell you that balancing your work life with your private life will become even more important as time goes on. I should imagine you will want to devote whatever physical and emotional reserves you have left at the day's end to your rather charming mate?"
After a moment of wary stillness Laron nodded in silence, his gaze steady and unwavering.
"So," Tahna shrugged lightly, "don't allow your critics to rob you of that." His smile grew positively evil. "Believe me, just the fact of you succeeding will put Kyle and his precious little sycophants back in their place more firmly than a hundred vocal confrontations."
"I feel compelled to point out, Sir Tahna," Laron murmured pointedly, "that for someone who is so eager to offer me the benefits of prudence, you were never one to back away from those so-called 'vocal confrontations' yourself."
"Oh, true," Tahna gave him an innocently wide-eyed nod, "but I chose my moments, Laron. I chose my moments. I always aimed for maximum irritation to my intended target with only minimum outlay of effort from me."
"Ah," Laron relaxed again, a slow smile curving his rich mouth. "If I might impose upon you for a pointer or two in that regard..?"
"But of course," Tahna flashed a dazzling grin at him. "Prior to the official handover, I will ensure that we set aside some time to address exactly those skills." He grew serious then, his smile dimming. "I know you want to fight back, Laron," he continued quietly, his manner almost somber in a startling contrast to the previous levity, "I don't blame you and I do admire the intestinal fortitude it displays. But... how you do something is just as important as what, when it comes to settling scores. Especially amongst the upper Elite castes. You cannot allow them to ever think that they have hurt you because the instant they smell blood, that's the end of you."
Laron nodded again, this time with a notable measure of gravitas. "I understand."
"I hope you do," Tahna sat back, steepling his elegant fingers under his chin. "I want you to succeed, Laron. I want my choice, my faith in you, to be vindicated. Don't let me down by allowing those silk swaddled jackals to entice you into losing your focus."
"I won't, Sir Tahna," Laron drew himself up; his handsome jaw lifting. "I can positively assure you of that."
"Good. Now, speaking of assurances," Tahna glanced briefly out the side window of his office at the beautiful gardens beyond, the image of the Neeson family's sweeping garden on Isius flashing through his mind for some odd reason. Giving himself a little shake, he focused his attention back on the attentive Elite before him. "I am going to give you three days of grace to get to know and work with Quinn here at the museum." He felt his smile grow somewhat droll. "I know that first impressions can be a little disappointing, but don't let the man's unfortunate manner distract you."
Laron shifted uncomfortably as he winced slightly. "Sir Tahna... in regard to Quinn." He shrugged, his unease clear. "Although I don't doubt that he is very good at what he does, I must confess that he seems to me to be a... a..."
"...an irritating little twit with the brains of a blue-tit and the demeanor of a trodden-on puppy?"
Laron stared at him for moment before recovering. "Actually, I was going to suggest that he was a little overly introverted?"
"Whatever," Tahna waved a dismissive hand. "The point, Laron, is that just like you and me there is more to Quinn than meets the eye. That's why I want you to man the office here while I complete a brief trip to Elldaren Prime—"
"You're heading off-planet?" Laron peered askance at him. "Right at this juncture? Seven days before the handover?"
"Oh dear," Tahna smiled blandly, "didn't I mention that?"
Laron's eyes narrowed.
Unperturbed and utterly unashamed Tahna continued. "Well, I'll be gone three days at the most. I have a most important matter to attend to and an interstellar uplink just won't do in this case."
"I see," Laron's tone was not entirely pleased, Tahna noted.
"Listen," the Blondie heaved a sigh and rolled his striking violet eyes ceiling-wards, "get to know Quinn without me in attendance. He's generally more nervous when I'm around, anyway. Bring your dear little mate in and let Quinn get to know him too. Personalize yourself to him, rather than just remaining another Elite to fear. You are going to need his help, particularly at the start. I mean, I will always be but a comm call or an online text away, but Quinn will be the experience right at the source. Besides, I want to give him an opportunity to get used to you while I am still, technically, around. Me leaving will be enough of a shock to him."
To Tahna's endless disgust, the Sapphire's expression became very knowing. "I see. Trodden-on or not, Sir Tahna, I do believe you rather like the man."
Tahna shot him a snooty little look. "Wash your mouth out."
Disregarding that, Laron inclined his head with an urbane nod to the Blondie. "Very well. I shall take your words carefully under advisement. The next three days shall be spent here, occasionally with Esra, and mostly with Quinn, getting to know your impressive department before you return from your sabbatical and we commence the hard work," he pulled a little face, "getting the handover to fly in the face of Amoian tradition."
"The caste system might have been traditional, Laron," Tahna said flatly, "but that didn't make it good business."
"Indeed."
Tahna sat back, appraising the Sapphire shrewdly. "I feel as though I hardly have to even ask the question at this juncture, considering everything we have thus far discussed, but..." he heaved a sigh and made a vague little gesture, "I suppose, in order to tick all the boxes, I must at least give voice to it." Straightening in his seat, Tahna fixed Laron with an artfully bland look. "Do you want the job or not?"
Reflecting that very same expression back to him, Laron nodded cordially. "Yes. Sir Tahna," he replied just as dryly, "I want the job."
"Done then," Tahna answered softly, satisfaction in his velvet voice. "Done."
Carefully balancing two plates of sandwiches and a mug of steaming coffee in his hands, Enif smiled slightly as he made his way carefully through his apartment and out the open front door. To one side of the entrance to his apartment, his hover-bike was parked, and Enif's smile widened somewhat as his dark eyes took in the sight of Mace, hunkered down on one knee beside the sleek machine, dressed in old jeans and a well worn grey T-shirt, grease streaking his powerful forearms as he tinkered with the hover-bike's engine.
Stepping up to one side of the broad-shouldered man who was currently checking the sparks and filter systems on Enif's bike 'just to be on the safe side', the ex-Pet carefully set down both the coffee mug and one of the plates of sandwiches on the top of Mace's toolbox. "Here you are," he said softly, waving one hand at the bike, "a small token of appreciation for services rendered this morning."
Mace paused in his work, huffing a dry chuckle as he wiped his hands carefully on a clean rag pulled from his back pocket. "That time already?" he asked in his roughened voice, reaching for the coffee.
"Mmm," Enif nodded, taking a seat on the small wooden bench that sat just to one side of his front door. "It's moving on to mid-morning now. I figured you'd be getting kind of hungry."
"You figured right." Grunting softly, Mace grabbed his plate and eased back onto the bench next to Enif, balancing his sandwiches on his knee. "Thanks for the thought though, Enif," he took a sip from his coffee, his weathered brow smoothing in appreciation of the taste. "You didn't have to do this, y'know."
"I know," Enif shrugged, "But that's sort of why I do it, if you get what I mean."
Mace simply smiled that same slow smile that Enif had now gotten so used to seeing, the one that indicated that the older man had heard something he liked. He grinned in reply, once more getting to his feet.
"You're not eating?" Mace glanced at the plate in Enif's hands.
"No, I had mine while I was making these," Enif looked over one shoulder towards the converted warehouses a few hundred feet away from the hamlet of apartments that served as the dorms for new colonists to Hepstra. "I uhm... I thought I might take these over to my latest arrival."
"Ah," the grizzled security chief's face grew somewhat grimmer than usual. "Do you think he'll be in any fit state to eat? He wasn't in good shape when we found him last night."
Enif sighed, a weary and familiarly sad kind of sigh. No, the ex-Pet that had been quite unceremoniously dumped at the head of the access road into the space port had not been in a good state. Not at all. And, in actual fact, he had been very lucky that Mace's sharp eyes had spotted him at the edge of the road in the first place.
He and Enif had been driving back to Enif's apartment in quite high spirits the previous night, having spent a most congenial few hours having a good meal and a few beers with some of Mace's old military friends at his local bar. Mace had been in an equable mood because he'd eaten well and because the band had been particularly good and Enif... well, Enif had been happy to the point of astonishment that firstly, Mace hadn't so much as blinked an eye over taking someone who was recognizably an ex-Pet to his local watering place and, secondly, that the man had obviously spoken to his friends about Enif already, as most of them had welcomed him by name upon sight.
He had been accepted, just as he was. By some of the toughest looking, foulest mouthed and genuinely kindest people he had ever met. It had been quite a revelation and it had filled him with hope. And hope had never been much of a key component of Enif's emotional make-up.
Then with fate's usual elegant timing as Mace had been driving him home, reality had returned with a thud when they had come across a terrified young man huddled only a few feet away from the iron security gates that opened into the back of the Midas space port where the warehouses and Enif's apartment was. Of course they had stopped, bundling him into the car, with Mace immediately handing over his coat to help warm up the woefully underdressed and violently shivering ex-Pet.
He had been in a pretty poor condition; in shock, cold to the point that his fingers had started to turn blue. He had been practically non-responsive, and Enif had been unable to get any real idea as to how long the poor thing had been left out there alone.
Enif suspected a couple of hours at least.
He had not seemed either willing or able to answer any of Enif's questions, but he had been easy enough to direct into the dorm, immediately going to the bed that Enif had pointed him to. He had curled up into a wretched little ball as Enif had covered him with warm blankets while Mace had used the facilities in Enif's small annexed office attached to the dorm to make a hot drink for the kid.
Of course, the ex-Pet hadn't drunk it, but they had offered it and Enif supposed that was what counted.
It had angered him, the fact that this one had been simply thrown out into the dark, most likely by the household's Furniture. It had frustrated him too, because it just wasn't necessary to do such cruel things anymore. A simple phone call, that was all it would take, and Enif or Riki if it was more appropriate would simply go along to the agreed place and collect the Pet personally. Much less stress, much easier on everyone and certainly an option that even the laziest Furniture could take advantage of.
Still, Enif was also of a fairly pragmatic turn of mind. Yes the young ex-Pet who had arrived into his care last night was in a bad way. But it was far from the worst that Enif had ever seen.
In fact, the only really stand out thing about this particular young man was that Enif recognized him.
Giving himself a little shake, directing his attention back to Mace and the querying green eyed gaze the man had patiently turned his way; Enif lifted his shoulders in a brief shrug. "I'm hoping that if he actually got a bit of rest last night he might be ready to talk, and eat at the same time."
Mace nodded and bit into his first sandwich, his expression clearly indicating his approval.
Smiling, Enif turned and walked across to the dorm. Unlocking the door, he peered into the warmly lit room beyond, his gaze immediately drawn to the young man seated on the bed, his arms wrapped around his knees and his quite striking eyes staring almost blankly across the room.
"Hey," taking a few steps into the room, Enif held up his plate, "I brought you something to eat."
That rather pretty gaze flicked his way. For a few seconds the young man visibly stiffened, his eyes widening in genuine anxiety and distrust. Then, as it obviously became apparent that Enif was not posing a threat to him, he relaxed once more and looked away. "I'm not hungry," his voice was terribly tired, oddly dead and inflectionless.
"Ah," Enif nodded sagely and closed the distance between them. "No. As a general rule, you guys aren't when you first come in. Too upset, y'see?"
The ex-Pet remained silent.
"Listen," Enif set the sandwiches down on the small bedside table and seated himself on the foot of the bed, his dark eyes full of compassion and his voice oddly matter of fact, "I know that right now it seems like the world had ended. I know that you're hurt and scared and angry, that you feel betrayed and lost. I know that—"
"What do you know?" The ex-Pet blinked slowly and turned that perfect face his way, his eyes flashing with anger and pain. "You know nothing about me."
Enif tilted his head, nodding in an amiable enough way. "I know that I used to be owned by the same Master you had."
As Enif had expected, that comment got a reaction. The ex-Pet's eyes widened with shock, the lovely face blanched and the sound of his sudden gasp could clearly be heard. "You..?" he swallowed hard, shaking his head, his hands beginning to tremble. "You belonged to Master Kyle?"
"Yes," Enif bit at his full lower lip for a moment. "It was a few years back now, but I remember everything, especially the night that Deel," Enif paused, nodding sadly when he saw the young man's eyes fill and shimmer at the mention of that name, "arranged for me to be taken from the only home I'd ever known and sold as a worker to a factory in Midas." He heaved a soft sigh. "So, in answer to your question – what do I know? – I know exactly what it feels like to be thrown away by Kyle Li."
The young man on the bed sniffed discreetly, two great tears streaking his face. "Wh-?" he broke off, breathing harshly for a moment before trying again. "What's going to happen to me?"
Enif smiled, scooting a little closer. He pulled a clean kerchief from his pocket and handed it over. "What's your name?"
The ex-Pet wiped his face. "Sash," he hiccupped softly.
"That's a pretty name," Enif murmured. "Now, tell me... do you recall seeing me in the lift at Eos Tower a few days ago?"
"I...," Sash stilled again, staring hard at Enif's face. "I do," he answered at length. "You looked like you were about to be sick."
Enif chuckled ruefully. "Yeah. Well. Luckily that happened after I got out of the lift in the basement."
"Just from seeing Master Kyle?" Sash began to shake again, "That made you sick?"
"Yeah."
"But... but he didn't even recognize you."
"I know." Enif sighed, waiting.
Sash's eyes widened with terrible realization. It was awful to see, Enif could admit that quite freely, but he also knew it was very necessary. Sash needed to accept the reality of his situation if he was to have any chance at embracing a future. He could not do that if he was caught up in kidding himself that his beloved master would somehow realize he had made a mistake and come to take him back.
"I loved him," Sash whispered, closing his eyes as a look of profound pain creased his brow. "I loved him so much and I... I did everything that he wanted me to do." Those eyes, wounded beyond repair stared pleadingly at him. "Why wasn't it enough? What did I do wrong?"
"Sash you didn't do anything wrong." Enif shook his head. "The sad fact is... Kyle just isn't capable of feeling love for anyone or anything, and it was just our bad luck that he chose us from the hundreds of Pets available to him."
And it was quite true, Enif reflected silently, even as he spoke the words. It was also quite remarkable just how much better he felt, how much less constrained somehow by his old master's influence he was, simply by being able to say such things aloud and to know them as true.
Sash wiped his eyes again, his face flushing with his upset and misery. "What's going to happen to me?" he choked out once more.
"I know that, most of all, you're frightened about that right now but it's going to be okay," Enif smiled, patting Sash's trembling shoulder. "The most important thing for you to realize is that you have choices."
Clearly uncomprehending, Sash mutely shook his head.
"Okay," Enif settled into a comfortable position as he began the familiar list. "Right now, you are officially under the care of the 'Amoian ex-Pet registry and Hepstra relocation project'. That means that you now have access to legal representation if you would like to file a claim against Kyle's household for maintenance support until such times as you are financially self-supporting."
Sash paled again, drawing away from him in sudden terror.
"All right," Enif muttered, making a reassuring gesture. "It's all right, Sash. No-one ever chooses that option, just so you know." He smiled wryly before shrugging and moving on. "The other option is that you stay here for a while to give us time to locate employment for you within Tanagura, and then once you're working and pulling in your own credit, we can look at setting you up in your own apartment. There are a couple of ex-Pets who went this way and so far it's worked out okay for them."
"What else?" Sash frowned with concentration. "You said something about relocation."
Enif nodded calmly. "That's the choice most ex-Pets go with. It's an ongoing joint project between us on Amoi and the federation ministry of trade and foreign affairs. We've basically built a working colony on Hepstra around the fuel deposit extraction plant there. It's a very successful community now, and ex-Pets are always welcomed." He felt his smile soften a touch. "Basically because it was ex-Pets and ex-Ceres residents who built the place."
Sash pressed his lips together into a thin white line, looking troubled and unsure.
Also not unexpected, Enif almost absently noted. "We run a mentoring program now on Hepstra. You'll be fully supported, taught everything you need to know and you might even form a real friendship there. Certainly you'll get a ready-made support network from the moment you arrive."
"I don't know," Sash shook his head, tears coming to his eyes once more as his distress began building again. "I... I don't know what to do. I can't think." He grimaced, pressing the trembling fingers of one hand to his brow. "I just want to go home."
"You can't, Sash," Enif told him in a tone that was fairly blunt for all that it was soft enough. "All you can do is move forward from here. Trust me, I wasted a lot of my years after Kyle 'retired' me asking 'why' – and I never got an answer. Take my advice and don't bother."
"These mentors," Sash whispered then, "are you sure they'll look after me?"
Enif smiled at him. "Even better. They'll teach you how to look after yourself."
Sash stared at him, his face wet with new tears.
"Look, just rest for now," Enif waved a hand at the plate next to the bed. "Eat if you can. I'll bring you some fresh stuff this evening, anyway. There's cold water in the cooler near the door if you get thirsty. We'll talk again later, okay? You don't have to decide right now."
"Okay," Sash's reply was a mere breath of sound. He lay back down, his unusual eyes once more growing distant and inwardly gazing.
Rising to his feet, Enif turned to the exit, his steps slowing when he saw that Mace was standing just inside the door to the dorm, watching him with an indecipherable expression on his hard bitten face.
"Hey," he greeted the big man softly, mindful of upsetting the ex-Pet behind him. "Were you waiting there for long?"
"Just a few minutes," Mace lifted one brawny shoulder. "You alright?"
"Yeah," Enif closed the distance between them, nodding his thanks as Mace waved him through the exit and patiently waited while he secured the door. Oddly, he felt genuinely touched by the concern. "I'm fine. I know that he feels like he's going to die right now... but he won't." His expression turned rueful. "I'm living proof of that much at least. It feels overwhelmingly terrible at the time, and – God, y'know – you're tempted to give up hope. I was. So many times; especially after losing Dian. But I'm glad I didn't, because then I never would have come to understand that if you can just hold on, things do get better."
Mace made a soft sound from low in his chest. "So life is improving now, is that what you're saying?"
Enif turned his face towards Mace's profile as they walked, a soft smile curving his lips. "Yeah," he answered calmly, honestly, looking fondly at this man whose gentle centre belied his harsh and grizzled exterior, "Yeah. It's getting there, Mace, that's for certain."
That slow smile appeared again as Mace nodded almost pensively. "Right." He glanced at Enif, his shrewd green eyes touched with warmth. "Good."
Feeling oddly peaceful, Enif simply smiled once more as they headed back to his apartment.
The journey itself... – chapter 20 << >> The journey itself... – chapter 22